Dear Reader,
The regular edition of French Word-A-Day will return in a few days. Meantime, I've been trying to write a eulogy for my belle-mère without sounding too sentimental, too dramatic, or too poetic–but all of these things, from poesie to sentimentality, evoke the richness of Michele-France's life. This–and her humor, her stubbornness, and that charming gap between her front teeth (the French have a term for this: "happiness teeth" or les dents du bonheur)–only begin to paint of picture of our beloved, ginger-haired Pied-Noir (born in Meknes and proud of it. She was the daughter of an equally strong-willed mother).
Since losing Michèle-France on Christmas Eve, I have pinpointed just what it is that provokes each flood of tears, each hiccup of emotion, each groan in my throat as I toss in bed, walk past her apartment, or sit on a pew watching the curtains close in front of her flower-topped casket, as I did Thursday. It is the realization that there will be no more. No more "My darlings" (Ma chérie, she would say with such tenderness), no more visits to her little apartment up the street, no more shared yogurt cakes, no more "I didn't want to bother Jean-Marc so I'm calling you to remind him to…" no more attitude towards the nurses, sass towards the shop assistants as she limped into the store with the help of her cane and her granddaughter, no more intelligent jokes, no more beautifully painted-red fingernails, a string of gold rings (one from her son) below, no more Elvis, no more bodyguard, no more teasing me about her son's ex-girlfriends, and, I will admit…
NO MORE TAPENADE. You little rascal, I say to my belle-mère during another earth-to-heaven conversation. I've asked you for years for your tapenade recipe. And you went and took it with you!!
In a poignant send-off arranged by the crematorium, to the tune of Love is all we have left, the curtains at the front of the ceremony room open once again. My belle-mère's casket is gone and all that remains is a crown of flowers on the floor. I am stunned.
* * *
"I miss you so much it hurts," I wrote on Facebook, where my mother-in-law's account is still live. Though she struggled with technology Michèle-France did not let a learning curve keep her from keeping up with the times. Quickly overlooked by her Facebook friends (including some of you) were the gaffes she made (like using a photo of a stranger (you?) as her profile picture. And posting another photo–this time of one of my sponsor's luxury villas–to use as her cover photo). Her grandchildren (or was it my sister-in-law? for Jean-Marc had given up) eventually came to the rescue, helping her to find a suitable picture of herself to use as her profile (and the luxury villa was replaced by a more modest interior belonging to….my sister-in-law! This all could be explained by the following: while my belle-mère tried to conquer technology–she still couldn't figure out her smartphone camera, or else she might have posted a picture of her own lovely salon, or living room.).
My heart now in a brace, I clicked open Messenger to read over the SMS conversations we'd had over the years. Michèle-France's texts were filled with gratitude and those silly stickers she got me to use, too (do you know the one with the dog digging in the ground and retrieving the big I MISS YOU heart? She was telling us she missed us even before she left this earth).
Now it is our turn to feel the weight of her absence. How heavy it is! Heavy as all those buckets of olives we were planning to cart over to her little apartment when, last fall, she announced that she was feeling better–good enough to make another batch of tapenade. We never got to make that tell-all batch, in which the longtime mystery (those ingredients!) would be revealed. Instead, a bigger mystery has replaced it: Where in the world is my belle-mère? I've been looking for her everywhere–in the sky, in my dark room at night, in the intricate designs in the tiles on my bathroom wall, in the waves crashing across the shore here in La Ciotat, at the top of our cypress tree beyond a bent branch–surely she's looking down on me? I can hear her tender voice, Ma Chérie, Ma Chérie….
She is, I decide, in every particle in everything, everywhere and everlasting. She is as close as a memory…as far as the Heavens. Surely she is up there–waving her tapenade recipe, smiling with those charming dents de bonheur. There is nothing she would keep from you or me, least of all her generosity. In the coming year, I will be reaching, reaching high for those heavenly instructions. I will share with you anything I find.
Amicalement,
Kristi
My mother-in-law (those charming "happiness teeth"), my husband, and good ol' Mr. Sacks, who my belle-mère called "Monsieur Sacoche".
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A single person is missing for you, and the whole world is empty. ~Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking
I had to get a kleenex for this one, Kristi. It made me ache for my own Mom and even though there was no missing tapenade recipe, the deep feelings of loss, the moments in time that have slipped by, the little words you hear in your mind of your Mother in law are the common love-denominator and what I hear when I think sweetly about my Mom. Life is a circle of love …
Kristin thank you for sharing Michelle France with your readers. You are so on target in looking for her – she is everywhere and that is where you and the family will find your comfort. Perhaps over time you will discover her tapenade recipe as she still may yet one day reveal it to you!
Dear Kristi,
I think you just wrote a very beautiful eulogy for your belle-mere. Thank you for sharing her uniqueness with us! I was very moved when I read what you wrote…..so often it is just those very little things that turn out to be the most meaningful remembrances about another person.
With heartfelt sympathy to you and the rest of the family….
Amicalement,
Laraine Lippe
Now YOU Kristiin, will need to beciome that fantatic, memorable, lovable and mysterious for your children’s children one day.
I knew I should not read this post while wearing mascara for an outing this afternoon… . Your words are beautiful, heartfelt, and so worth the repair job!
Thank you for sharing!
What a beautiful, loving eulogy! How fortunate you both were to share such love.
Kristi, Sorry for your tremendous loss. In an offering of comfort I am attaching a beautiful poem by an 11 th century poet,
‘Tis a Fearful Thing’
by Yehuda Halevi
Tis a fearful thing
to love what death can touch.
A fearful thing
to love, to hope, to dream, to be –
to be,
And oh, to lose.
A thing for fools, this,
And a holy thing,
a holy thing
to love.
For your life has lived in me,
your laugh once lifted me,
your word was gift to me.
To remember this brings painful joy.
‘Tis a human thing, love,
a holy thing, to love
what death has touched.”
May you and your family find comfort in the difficult days ahead.
heidi
Loss is a unviersal binder — we all relate thru our personal experience and cry again. Keep crying and honor your grief. It is the measure of love and what makes us truly human. My heartflet wishes for your comfort and peace at this time.
Bien qu’elle soit dans la soixantaine, elle a le visage juene.
My prayers are for you and your family. I read this and I miss her, and I never met her except through you! What a blessing to have had her in your lives
I weep for your loss. That was so beautifully written with love and warmth.
So well said, Kristi, when often there are no words to express than sudden, shocking void when you lose a beloved parent.
My heart goes out to you, Jean-Marc and your whole family . Gros bisous
Dear Kristin,
It’s been quite some time since I have written anything here but it wanted to send love and support as you all travel through this time and celebrate the life of your belle-mere. She was clearly a very special person.
Your writing here is as always, beautiful.
Warmest wishes
Christine
We Remember Them
At the rising of the sun and its going down,
we remember them.
At the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter,
we remember them.
At the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring,
we remember them.
At the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer,
we remember them.
At the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of autumn,
we remember them.
At the beginning of the year and when it ends,
we remember them.
As long as we live, they too will live;
for they are now a part of us, as we remember them.
When we are weary and in need of strength,
we remember them.
When we are lost and sick at heart,
we remember them.
When we have joy we crave to share,
we remember them.
When we have decisions that are difficult to make,
we remember them.
When we have achievements that are based on theirs,
we remember them.
As long as we live, they, too, will live;
for they are now a part of us, as we remember them.
Lovely picture. The sea the flowers the smiles. The love. All upstaging the bulging business bag!
Since the name Daisy comes from the Sun – the eye of the day and once was called thus ‘the day’s eye’ til saying it differently hid it from us, it seems the perfect flower to complete the picture. LIke the light from long distant stars your beloved belle mere’s love will continue to reach you and light your path. Treasure all the dear memories and precious recipes and share them with your grandchildren in due time.xx
sorry about the typo, I meant to write ” that sudden” , not ” than”
😢 What can one really say about such a loss?
This is the age of great and painful loss when these loved ones begin to be taken from us far too often……..
I am so sorry for your loss. Please give my sentiments to Jean-Marc as well.
Amicalement,
Jan Acorn
Merci chére Kristi for writing and sharing such a sweet eulogy. Your realization that “there will be no more” is one that I have written into my 2018 journal. It will remind me to savor the moments of each day. You do that so well. No wonder Michèle-France called you ma chérie so tenderly. Love and bisous to you and Jean-Marc and all of your families.
Hi Jackie,
Actually, the original line comes from the illustrious French writer/philosopher, Alphonse de Lamartine, in his poem “L’isolément”.
“Un seul être vous manque, et tout est dépeuplé.”
And Kristi, your beautiful reflection about your belle-mère formidable (“She is close as a memory… as far as the Heavens”) ranks right up there with de Lamartine, Hugo and Didion.
Our sincere condolences to you, Jean-Marc and all yuor family,
Trish et JeanClaude
Kristin, you wrote your mother-in-law’s eulogy in this post. I hear the pain in your words. My own mom-in-law died in 2013. When I visit my dad-in-law’s house, I no longer see a woman’s touch. So we miss them in many ways, as you pointed out. There’s a special bond between a mother and daughter-in-law. I love how much you loved her and how much she loved you.
*your*
Sending heartfelt sympathy to your whole family. Such beautiful words. Thanks for sharing them with her, and all of us.
Kristin, this tribute to your mother-in-law is very special. Wonderful thoughts and truly beautiful writing. My deepest sympathy.
What a beautiful tribute to your sweet mother in law.
That was a lovely tribute Kristin. Thank you for sharing with us. My life is richer for having known Michele-France through you. All the best to you and your family during this hard time.
So sad for your loss of a beautiful soul and belle-mère. In reading you touching words I am reminded of those of M.F.K. Fisher: “God gave us memories so we could have roses in winter and mothers forever.” You are in my thoughts…
What a lovely tribute to your belle-mere! Beautiful writing, indeed!
Thank you sharing your love with us, Kristi. I wish I could put my arms around you and your family.
We lost our belle mere in September. Loved reading your thoughts. Also everyone else particularly the poems.
Beautiful
Wishing you, Jean-Marc, and all members of the family your continued joy in the memories of your wonderful mother-in-law as you mourn her loss. Clearly, she was a beloved fixture in your life and it’s hard to live without someone who played such an important role for so long. I hope that she sends that wonderful tapenade recipe straight from heaven to you one day. I suspect that she will.
Warmest regards,
Susan
Thank you for sharing this wonderful tribute. I hope all through time you will continue to feel your belle mere in everything around you.
Hi Kristi,
I’m so sorry for you loss and she surely resides in your heart and in your memories. Tell Jean-Marc I am so sorry too and I have remembered her in my prayers as well as your whole family.
I love the photo of her with Jean-Marc and I can see the lovely warmth emanating from her beautiful gapped toothed smile.
Blessings to you and your family and hugs across the miles!
Eileen
A very lovely, loving tribute to a person who was so obviously both of those things herself.
Dear Kristi,
Such a beautuful, touching tribute to Michele-France. May the love your family has for her help heal your broken hearts…
Your kind words remind me when I also struggled to find the right words to say at my mother-in-law’s funeral service . . . I remember saying that the French term “belle-mere” was a much kinder term than our English phrase and better described our 44 plus year relationship! How could an English term that sounds so contractual ever reflect what is/was a loving relationship?
Mes sinceres et affectueuses pensees vous accompagnent. Les bons souvenirs sont precieux, qu’ils vous aident a vivre ces difficiles moments!
What a beautiful tribute !
Jennifer Reese
Bonita Springs, FL / Glen Ellyn, IL
What a beautiful story. Thank you so much for sharing it and your mother-in-law. You have touched my soul. She is with you everywhere for sure. Sending you and your family big hugs to maybe make the sorrow a little less.
Your in-laws are very lucky people to have such a talented writer as you to give such a beautifully-written eulogy honoring your mom-in-law. Sit in peace and meditate, and you will “feel” her with you again. Mes condoléances à toi et ta famille.
Where is she now? Everywhere, I believe…any time you think of her. After my mother’s memorial service, I heard her voice, slightly reproving, in the middle of O’Hare Airport in Chicago, and I have no doubt she was there at that moment!
The Bustle in a House (1108)
By Emily Dickinson
The Bustle in a House
The Morning after Death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted opon Earth –
The Sweeping up the Heart
And putting Love away
We shall not want to use again
Until Eternity –
LOVE TO YOU ALL, Eileen
You made e cry a bit, and I have never met you or Michelle-France! It is good to love so deeply, because now she is in all you do and everyplace you go in La Ciotat. Indeed, she is in you, and her son and your children, Kristi. And that is a very loving thing…… J’envoie des calins au Maine!
My grand-mere also had “happiness teeth”! She was a very stubborn little Welsh lady who died in 1971. Jean-Marc’s grandmother looks very much like her.
Kristi, your heartfelt words seep straight into my heart and bring tears to my eyes. I also smiled a couple of times when reading about Michelle-France’s charming usage of Facebook. This is such a beautiful tribute to your special mother-in-law! Thank you for sharing it with us. Sending so much love your way!
Your memories and the warmth in your words and love of your beautiful belle-mere are beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing. You capture so much in the details. Made me think of my mother and how much I still miss her. My sympathy to you and your family with hope that your memories comfort now and in the future.
I just love that the French use belle-mere for mother-in-law. It sums up the loving and beautiful warmth of your relationship. Peace.