Postitano, Italy. Photo by Annwvyn.
Chapter 1: Positano, Italy – Summer 2002
We must bear with ourselves with patience and without flattery. — Fenelon
I am sitting on the floor of a luxury hotel room, tossing potato chips across the parquet tiles to my 9-month-old nephew, Payne. My sister and her husband are out for an early dinner, and I have offered to babysit.
With a squeal of laughter, Payne scampers across the floor to fetch another chip, pausing as he passes by a tiny glass flask. I casually reach for it, tucking the airline sampler bottle behind me and throwing out another chip to redirect the toddler's attention back to the game. I can think of no better way to pass the time; besides, this activity seems to be a hit!
I take a hit from the little glass flask, having twisted off the aluminum top. C'est l'heure de l'apéro, I reason, calling to mind my husband, who is surely having a glass of wine at this hour. And my sister and her husband would have sat down by now at the dinner table, with glasses of champagne. Yes, it was cocktail hour for everyone including me. So no worries!
Looking out to the balcony, I watch the sun begin to set along the Amalfi Coast. To the right, the hillside is peppered with spicy-colored villas ranging from pepper red to saffron yellow. A true artist would call it a "pastiche", but what did I know? Inside of me the poet's flame had gone out long ago.
Out in the harbor, yachts are swaying, very much like my steps as I stand up and walk over toward my bed. The sea breeze filters in from the open French windows, and I reach out to shut them securely before returning to my cot. I'll just have a little rest. Pitching the last potato chip far over to the curtains, I buy another moment of shut-eye as Payne sets out to retrieve the salty prize.
* * *
Waking to the sound of laughter I see my brother-in-law, Doug, through the slits of my eyes. He is shaking his head.
"She's smashed!"
"Doug!" my sister objects, silencing her husband. I watch as Heidi makes a beeline over to my bed.
"Well she is. She's smashed!" my brother-in-law points out. He's had a few drinks himself, and is ripe for an argument.
Heidi ignores him, kneeling down to have a closer look at me. Strings of pearls glimmer as the moon shines into the room reflecting off my sister. She looks so beautiful in a colorful silk dress. Her bright red lips are quizzing me.
Instead of answering, I'm shoulding: I should wear color, instead of black. I should buy some red lipstick! I should not have drunk those airline samplers!
The scent of Shalimar, our mother's favorite perfume, tickles the inside of my nose. I should buy a bottle of Mom's perfume, too! I think of our mother, who lives an ocean away, in Yelapa, Mexico. We haven't spoken for ages. There are no telephones in the jungle.
"Why are there potato chips on the floor?" Heidi's tone is part curiosity, part impatience. Her wheat-colored hair falls down her back, in waves. Doug tugs on a lock of it as he walks past to open the window.
"Smashed!" he declares.
A brisk stream of air rushes in to the hotel suite. A storm is brewing on the horizon and giant waves coming in from the sea are capped in white.
Suddenly the scent of my sister's perfume and the salty breeze sobers me. I sit up in bed as my eyes dart around the room searching for my 9-month-old nephew!
Payne's diaper is peeking out from the curtains, where he has finally managed to reach the last potato chip. My brother-in-law bends down, sweeping up the giggly baby. Plucking a few soggy morsels from Payne's lips, he offers his son a tender kiss followed by a mock scolding, "No more beer chips for you, Little Guy!"
"Not beer, it's vodka!" Heidi says, picking up an upended flask.
"Ah… Mother's Little Helper!" Doug chirps.
My brother-in-law's "drink teasing" always makes me wince. But it was true, after chasing children all day, I found it extremely relaxing at night to have a glass or two of wine–until I discovered vodka.
My stomach began to knot as I looked over at my sister. I hated to disappoint her and her husband, after they had generously offered me this retreat. And here I was tossing chips to an infant! It was so ironic, so out of character for me, the mother who insisted on nursing her own son for over a year. And to think, when friends so much as offered a fingerful of whipped cream to my own son, I freaked out. Only mother's milk would do for 12 month old child! But potato chips for my sweet nephew?
I heard my brother-in-law in the bathroom, changing Payne's diapers. His words echoed my thoughts:
"Mother's Helper! Your aunt had a little bit of Mother's helper tonight," he sang, tossing the diaper in the trash. Next he reached for a towel to begin cleaning the potato chips off the floor. He was more amused than angry. Payne was okay, he assured me. No harm done.
But what about my sister? What must she be thinking!
Looking me in the eyes Heidi shook her head and I felt my heart sink. That was it. I'd done it this time! I should have stayed home.
Heidi plucked up the bag of chips, reaching in, ever so gracefully, for the last one. Tasting it, she shook her head once again.
"Italian chips suck," she said, reaching over to ruffle my hair. "Couldn't you have at least bought American?"
* * *
Postnote: Ultimately, I decided not to go forward with the memoir. Here are two posts that hint at why:
1. L'Enjeu est Grand (The Stakes are High)
2. Le Piege (The Trap)
Chapters: click on the following links to read the other episodes
The opening quote, from the French 17th century thinker Fenelon, is from this book that gives me so much comfort and direction.
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I just want to echo the comments about courage. This is a journey, a very personal one, and you are very brave to make it public. I’m hooked! I hope it brings your spirit peace.
I just want to echo the comments about courage. This is a journey, a very personal one, and you are very brave to make it public. I’m hooked! I hope it brings your spirit peace.
Kristin,
I almost hesitate to make any comments about your writing, because what you’re doing is so courageous and shows such inner strength.
Early on in Chapter 1 you write, “Instead of answering, I’m shoulding.” It becomes apparent in the next sentence what you mean, but in fact I stopped at “shoulding,” trying to puzzle out the word, wondering whether it was a typo (“shouldering”, as in shrugging?). So you might want to consider rephrasing that.
I see that someone made an earlier correction about Positano’s location. I (also) tend to confuse Positano (on Amalfi coast) and Portofino (on Ligurian coast). Your photo looks like it is indeed the southern one?
Keep up the good and the hard work of writing about something that must be very difficult for you. But “The truth will set you free,” as well as serve as inspiration for many.
Bravissima!
Kristin,
I almost hesitate to make any comments about your writing, because what you’re doing is so courageous and shows such inner strength.
Early on in Chapter 1 you write, “Instead of answering, I’m shoulding.” It becomes apparent in the next sentence what you mean, but in fact I stopped at “shoulding,” trying to puzzle out the word, wondering whether it was a typo (“shouldering”, as in shrugging?). So you might want to consider rephrasing that.
I see that someone made an earlier correction about Positano’s location. I (also) tend to confuse Positano (on Amalfi coast) and Portofino (on Ligurian coast). Your photo looks like it is indeed the southern one?
Keep up the good and the hard work of writing about something that must be very difficult for you. But “The truth will set you free,” as well as serve as inspiration for many.
Bravissima!
Dear Kristin,
I have been with you for years. I have been uplifted by your words and insights. I have laughed and cried with you. I am here for you now, as one crumpled heart to another. This world is a double-edged sword: magnificent in its miraculous beauty; malevolent in its propensity for pain. Each of us is the same. So where there is pain in you, there is also great beauty. Focus on the latter. Peace be upon you. His peace.
XOXO,
D.
Dear Kristin,
I have been with you for years. I have been uplifted by your words and insights. I have laughed and cried with you. I am here for you now, as one crumpled heart to another. This world is a double-edged sword: magnificent in its miraculous beauty; malevolent in its propensity for pain. Each of us is the same. So where there is pain in you, there is also great beauty. Focus on the latter. Peace be upon you. His peace.
XOXO,
D.
Delightful. Your best writing yet. Please continue. We all have some issue in life that perhaps we are not quite so proud of, but when they come out they set one free. So, saying that, it would be wonderful for you to elaborate on all those blogs you have done but putting them into this fun, liberating book of prose. And I just bet there will be a publishing company out there that will want to take this one on.
Delightful. Your best writing yet. Please continue. We all have some issue in life that perhaps we are not quite so proud of, but when they come out they set one free. So, saying that, it would be wonderful for you to elaborate on all those blogs you have done but putting them into this fun, liberating book of prose. And I just bet there will be a publishing company out there that will want to take this one on.
Bravo, Kristin! You write so well and so honestly and from the heart that you touch each one of your readers in a special way. As you can “see”, we think you are very brave and wish to encourage you in every way we can. My very best wishes, Cynthia
Bravo, Kristin! You write so well and so honestly and from the heart that you touch each one of your readers in a special way. As you can “see”, we think you are very brave and wish to encourage you in every way we can. My very best wishes, Cynthia
Early in my sobriety I had a counselor who warned me to avoid “shoulding”…shoulda, coulda, woulda…never an action only remorse for a lost intent to act. Keep on writing. It is the best and your expressions are just right. Be careful with your edits..first thoughts are many times the right ones and the hardest to share.
Thank you for this gift to us, to your family and most of all to yourself. You have given me courage and hope to continue and to share what I can with those who follow. love on Valentine’s and every other day.
Early in my sobriety I had a counselor who warned me to avoid “shoulding”…shoulda, coulda, woulda…never an action only remorse for a lost intent to act. Keep on writing. It is the best and your expressions are just right. Be careful with your edits..first thoughts are many times the right ones and the hardest to share.
Thank you for this gift to us, to your family and most of all to yourself. You have given me courage and hope to continue and to share what I can with those who follow. love on Valentine’s and every other day.
Kristin–it is so easy for me (and others) to romanticize another’s life–and you have often shown us “the rest of the story” of starting and owning your vineyard in such a beautiful setting–handsome husband and beautiful children, fun and beautiful, artistic mother in tow. All too easy to glamorize—just a few chuckles and sympathy pains until now. Now, we get to the deeper parts which naturally must accompany the rest. Each of us has hidden parts and the fear of exposing them–but often it is acknowledging them to ourselves which is the toughest part. So thank you for sharing the story and opening up to us–it may just help us do the same at some point. Bon courage! You have a whole entourage of friends on your blog who support your efforts and your writing.
Kristin–it is so easy for me (and others) to romanticize another’s life–and you have often shown us “the rest of the story” of starting and owning your vineyard in such a beautiful setting–handsome husband and beautiful children, fun and beautiful, artistic mother in tow. All too easy to glamorize—just a few chuckles and sympathy pains until now. Now, we get to the deeper parts which naturally must accompany the rest. Each of us has hidden parts and the fear of exposing them–but often it is acknowledging them to ourselves which is the toughest part. So thank you for sharing the story and opening up to us–it may just help us do the same at some point. Bon courage! You have a whole entourage of friends on your blog who support your efforts and your writing.
Jean-Marc is also courageous to stand by you in your creative angst. You are truly blessed to have such a loving and supportive husband.
Jean-Marc is also courageous to stand by you in your creative angst. You are truly blessed to have such a loving and supportive husband.
Thank you for sharing your story. You are courageous and admirable, and your stories are so vivid and interesting. Please keep up the great work! I’ve enjoyed reading your posts for years, along with your first book too.
Thank you for sharing your story. You are courageous and admirable, and your stories are so vivid and interesting. Please keep up the great work! I’ve enjoyed reading your posts for years, along with your first book too.
A “cherie” blossoms…. x
A “cherie” blossoms…. x
I believe you just blew the doors wide open! Great writing my (lovely, courageous and admirable) friend!
I believe you just blew the doors wide open! Great writing my (lovely, courageous and admirable) friend!
Bravo!
Bravo!
Hi Everybody,
It’s a little past midnight in France – I am sure after reading all of your encouraging notes that Kristi is sleeping in peace.
Thank you for giving Kristi this peace and support.
XOXO
JULES
Hi Everybody,
It’s a little past midnight in France – I am sure after reading all of your encouraging notes that Kristi is sleeping in peace.
Thank you for giving Kristi this peace and support.
XOXO
JULES
I tried to post a comment after your last blog but couldn’t for some teckie reason.
Full of admiration for you Kristin. Didn’t see that last line coming and it stopped me in my tracks.
My husband, who has also taken to reading your blog to learn a new French word every day (see it does work!)also commented on your achievment.
Well done, amazing milestone. Keep writing your memoirs – you do it incredibly well.
I tried to post a comment after your last blog but couldn’t for some teckie reason.
Full of admiration for you Kristin. Didn’t see that last line coming and it stopped me in my tracks.
My husband, who has also taken to reading your blog to learn a new French word every day (see it does work!)also commented on your achievment.
Well done, amazing milestone. Keep writing your memoirs – you do it incredibly well.
Kristin,
Quel courage! You humble me! I want to read whatever, whenever you want to share any part of your life with us. What a journey and such a beautiful telling of it – your writing transports me to your place! We are all standing with you, but you are the tallest of us all! Hugs, kisses & peace, Judi
Kristin,
Quel courage! You humble me! I want to read whatever, whenever you want to share any part of your life with us. What a journey and such a beautiful telling of it – your writing transports me to your place! We are all standing with you, but you are the tallest of us all! Hugs, kisses & peace, Judi
I did wince when I read some of it as I remembered some of my least proud moments from the past. It is most important that you love and forgive yourself . You were always doing the best you knew how at the time. You chose a courageous journey and now you have made a courageous choice to share a very private thing. Please fully accept, love, and forgive yourself for everything. I hope Jean-Marc can support you fully if you want to tell this story. It must be hard for him
to watch you go to this place. I wish you peace.
I did wince when I read some of it as I remembered some of my least proud moments from the past. It is most important that you love and forgive yourself . You were always doing the best you knew how at the time. You chose a courageous journey and now you have made a courageous choice to share a very private thing. Please fully accept, love, and forgive yourself for everything. I hope Jean-Marc can support you fully if you want to tell this story. It must be hard for him
to watch you go to this place. I wish you peace.
To darling Kristi (and others who are listening) as a frustrated grammarian I must say this: the term “a work in progress” is incorrect, as well as being a mixed metaphor/redundant ; the correct term is “a work in process”. Unfortunately, even major publications make this error frequently. c’est dommage!
This is in no way a criticism of your lovely, transcendent writing, which I envy and admire. All the best on your brave new journey.
To darling Kristi (and others who are listening) as a frustrated grammarian I must say this: the term “a work in progress” is incorrect, as well as being a mixed metaphor/redundant ; the correct term is “a work in process”. Unfortunately, even major publications make this error frequently. c’est dommage!
This is in no way a criticism of your lovely, transcendent writing, which I envy and admire. All the best on your brave new journey.
Thank you, The Grammarian. Funny, I was thinking about the term in the last hour…
I have insomnia for the first time in ten years! Oh well, I will honor the process… Of this work in process 🙂
To anyone reading, your comments, punctuated by my husbands occasional snores, are lovely company on this quiet night.
I thought about a title for my book, A Mafia of Angels, after a poem I wrote: http://french-word-a-day.typepad.com/motdujour/2009/09/fille.html
It could go well with the picture of Jackie falling from the sky… http://french-word-a-day.typepad.com/.a/6a00d834515cae69e2017ee8534c03970d-popup
Then again, it could go well with the sheep photo for the book cover and title http://french-word-a-day.typepad.com/.a/6a00d834515cae69e2017c35d8c7c1970b-popup
P.S. If you are reading, you are part of this mafia of angels, your support over the years (or hours) has kept me in line.
Thank you, The Grammarian. Funny, I was thinking about the term in the last hour…
I have insomnia for the first time in ten years! Oh well, I will honor the process… Of this work in process 🙂
To anyone reading, your comments, punctuated by my husbands occasional snores, are lovely company on this quiet night.
I thought about a title for my book, A Mafia of Angels, after a poem I wrote: http://french-word-a-day.typepad.com/motdujour/2009/09/fille.html
It could go well with the picture of Jackie falling from the sky… http://french-word-a-day.typepad.com/.a/6a00d834515cae69e2017ee8534c03970d-popup
Then again, it could go well with the sheep photo for the book cover and title http://french-word-a-day.typepad.com/.a/6a00d834515cae69e2017c35d8c7c1970b-popup
P.S. If you are reading, you are part of this mafia of angels, your support over the years (or hours) has kept me in line.
You had me at the first line….. hurrah for you….
You had me at the first line….. hurrah for you….
It is good to get some background after the shock of the previous post (I had had no idea that sobriety was an issue).
What struck me first in this chapter wasn’t even drinking the airline liquor and being “smashed,” definitely a no-no when babysitting, or feeding chips to a child with few teeth, but being asleep while a baby crawls around unattended (admittedly a mistake even sober people can make). I was relieved that Payne was all right.
This account nevertheless has value, beyond the quality of the writing. As I recall, one of the steps in AA is being willing to admit, not just to God, but to others, that one is powerless over alcohol, and to do so in such a way that others can be helped by what is said. This is happening already on the blog as some posters mention their own struggles – and to all of you who have done so, I commend your courage.
I had a family member who fought this battle for several years. She wasn’t a stereotypical alcoholic; she went to work every day, and managed, more or less, to do various things, although the signs of deterioration later became evident. She never drank on the job, but overdid the cocktails at night. As with the little airplane bottle, a quantity which initially seemed insignificant became greater, and more frequent, over time. This is one of the dangers encountered with drinking – imperceptibly, but really, one develops a habit and dependence which is extremely hard to overcome. Never forget that you HAVE overcome it!
I started reading the blog to perfect my French, and still do, and appreciate vignettes of French culture. But I follow it now as much for stories of my friends (including the ones I’ve not yet seen in person) as for vocabulary, photos, recipes, and so on. When you meet people, you want to know more about them, and this chapter of a life should be included, if not dwelt upon, as it isn’t the whole person.
Kristin, tell as much as will help you and your family, and whatever you write will be enough. The rest of us will be interested in your thoughts and your message, and stand ready to offer encouragement when needed. I’m so glad that you and your family are doing so well, and imagine that their support has been invaluable, too.
Kristin’s accomplishment brings to mind the saying, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” It will be good to see how she wound up “at the bottom,” and how she climbed back up and out into sobriety and a many-faceted life.
It is good to get some background after the shock of the previous post (I had had no idea that sobriety was an issue).
What struck me first in this chapter wasn’t even drinking the airline liquor and being “smashed,” definitely a no-no when babysitting, or feeding chips to a child with few teeth, but being asleep while a baby crawls around unattended (admittedly a mistake even sober people can make). I was relieved that Payne was all right.
This account nevertheless has value, beyond the quality of the writing. As I recall, one of the steps in AA is being willing to admit, not just to God, but to others, that one is powerless over alcohol, and to do so in such a way that others can be helped by what is said. This is happening already on the blog as some posters mention their own struggles – and to all of you who have done so, I commend your courage.
I had a family member who fought this battle for several years. She wasn’t a stereotypical alcoholic; she went to work every day, and managed, more or less, to do various things, although the signs of deterioration later became evident. She never drank on the job, but overdid the cocktails at night. As with the little airplane bottle, a quantity which initially seemed insignificant became greater, and more frequent, over time. This is one of the dangers encountered with drinking – imperceptibly, but really, one develops a habit and dependence which is extremely hard to overcome. Never forget that you HAVE overcome it!
I started reading the blog to perfect my French, and still do, and appreciate vignettes of French culture. But I follow it now as much for stories of my friends (including the ones I’ve not yet seen in person) as for vocabulary, photos, recipes, and so on. When you meet people, you want to know more about them, and this chapter of a life should be included, if not dwelt upon, as it isn’t the whole person.
Kristin, tell as much as will help you and your family, and whatever you write will be enough. The rest of us will be interested in your thoughts and your message, and stand ready to offer encouragement when needed. I’m so glad that you and your family are doing so well, and imagine that their support has been invaluable, too.
Kristin’s accomplishment brings to mind the saying, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” It will be good to see how she wound up “at the bottom,” and how she climbed back up and out into sobriety and a many-faceted life.
Thanks, Christine, not sure if I responded to your comment about *shoulding*. I will keep it in mind, as a few people have tripped over that word, though it was just the word to express my thoughts.
Thanks, Christine, not sure if I responded to your comment about *shoulding*. I will keep it in mind, as a few people have tripped over that word, though it was just the word to express my thoughts.
I have loved the blog, sometimes I am rushed and can’t read it all… kids and life. I am living in a french speaking country and am American too, I love to garden and you make me laugh. But this captivated me…love it, thanks, hits close to home…bless you and keep up the good work!
I have loved the blog, sometimes I am rushed and can’t read it all… kids and life. I am living in a french speaking country and am American too, I love to garden and you make me laugh. But this captivated me…love it, thanks, hits close to home…bless you and keep up the good work!
I think that writing a memoir about your struggle in this very honest way will free you and lead to do more of the kind of writing you have often spoken of wanting to do. (For instance, the fiction story you began and shared the beginning of, the one with a shop window and something about a sewing machine, I remember I thought was really good, one of the best things you have written, in fact.) Anyway, I think once you have gotten this story, your story, written, it will open up your creativity as a writer in a whole new way. I don’t have any idea how I am qualified to say such a thing, just something I feel. Another small thing. I like the way you used “shoulding”. Of course it not strictly speaking correct, but who doesn’t get exactly what you mean by it? I like your word play, of which I think this is an example which works. I’m another person who started reading your blog strictly out of my interest in French vocabulary, but stay for the amazing personal connection you create with readers with your humor,
honesty and beautiful spirit.
I think that writing a memoir about your struggle in this very honest way will free you and lead to do more of the kind of writing you have often spoken of wanting to do. (For instance, the fiction story you began and shared the beginning of, the one with a shop window and something about a sewing machine, I remember I thought was really good, one of the best things you have written, in fact.) Anyway, I think once you have gotten this story, your story, written, it will open up your creativity as a writer in a whole new way. I don’t have any idea how I am qualified to say such a thing, just something I feel. Another small thing. I like the way you used “shoulding”. Of course it not strictly speaking correct, but who doesn’t get exactly what you mean by it? I like your word play, of which I think this is an example which works. I’m another person who started reading your blog strictly out of my interest in French vocabulary, but stay for the amazing personal connection you create with readers with your humor,
honesty and beautiful spirit.
Dear Kristin,
Greetings from snowy New Jersey. I always love your Word-A-Day thoughts and am in absolute awe of your bravery! Congratulations on your incredible 10 year victory. Your memoir will be a huge success because of your honesty, strength and courage (not to mention your truly lovely powers of description).
Best as always,
Lisa
Dear Kristin,
Greetings from snowy New Jersey. I always love your Word-A-Day thoughts and am in absolute awe of your bravery! Congratulations on your incredible 10 year victory. Your memoir will be a huge success because of your honesty, strength and courage (not to mention your truly lovely powers of description).
Best as always,
Lisa
Dear Kristin,
I always enjoy reading your posts, and appreciate the honesty, clarity and even wry humour of this one.
Don’t write off “work in progress” as an expression. I looked it up in the The Oxford English Dictionary (the big multi-volume one). It doesn’t mention “work in process” but it has the following entry for “work in progress”:
work-in-progress n. work undertaken but not completed, esp. (a) in commerce (see quot. 1978); (b) in the arts.
1930 Times 25 Mar. 24/5 ‘Work in progress, less instalments thereon,’ is £141,069, against £47,351 in the previous year.
1952 R. Giroux Let. 10 Mar. in Breit & Lowry Sel. Lett. M. Lowry (1967) 450 It is clear that the place of the finished book will be important in your long work-in-progress.
1976 P. Israel French Kiss (1977) ii. 24 The work-in-progress on one of the easels.
1978 J. Kellock Elem. Accounting x. 176 Work-in-progress, is the value of incomplete work in the factory and is usually computed on the following basis: the cost of materials and production labour plus the proportion of indirect expenses chargeable to the work up to its present stage of manufacture.
Dear Kristin,
I always enjoy reading your posts, and appreciate the honesty, clarity and even wry humour of this one.
Don’t write off “work in progress” as an expression. I looked it up in the The Oxford English Dictionary (the big multi-volume one). It doesn’t mention “work in process” but it has the following entry for “work in progress”:
work-in-progress n. work undertaken but not completed, esp. (a) in commerce (see quot. 1978); (b) in the arts.
1930 Times 25 Mar. 24/5 ‘Work in progress, less instalments thereon,’ is £141,069, against £47,351 in the previous year.
1952 R. Giroux Let. 10 Mar. in Breit & Lowry Sel. Lett. M. Lowry (1967) 450 It is clear that the place of the finished book will be important in your long work-in-progress.
1976 P. Israel French Kiss (1977) ii. 24 The work-in-progress on one of the easels.
1978 J. Kellock Elem. Accounting x. 176 Work-in-progress, is the value of incomplete work in the factory and is usually computed on the following basis: the cost of materials and production labour plus the proportion of indirect expenses chargeable to the work up to its present stage of manufacture.