Alzheimer’s being the conniving thieving bitch that it is, my mother wasn’t herself in the final years of her life. The woman I visited in the Alzheimer’s special care unit was a stranger wearing my mother’s skin but not much else, like the invasion of the body snatchers had taken place, month after month beneath the surface, until one day we looked and the woman we knew was gone, replaced by some alien being. An imposter. Intruder alert. Intruder alert. She died back in 2012. Don’t worry; I won’t be getting maudlin on you. My real mother–not that stranger in a wheel chair, head nodding on her shoulder–is who I want to think about today. My real mother —Enid Maude Good nee Hayden, a prim, old-fashioned name, perhaps the only thing about her I didn’t love— was British-born and had a lovely London lilt to her voice her whole life even though she left England in the mid-1950’s. I suppose at thirty, her vocal patterns were already frozen in place. Sounding like a cross between
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I love all things French and doors are no exception. I've seen some magnificent ones in my time and those you share here are right up with them! And thanks for coming to Marmelade Gypsy! Nice to meet you!
ReplyDeleteThanks Jeanie. Nice to meet you too!
DeleteParis has great doors. They come in all sizes and shapes and colours.
ReplyDeleteSo much fun! I spend a lot of time looking for cool doors here in LA, they are not in abundance, believe me!
DeleteYes. I share your enthusiasm for a good door!
ReplyDeleteSim, I agree. You posted some blue doors the other day and I swear that I took the same picture in Paris, only a few days after you left the city. Thanks for sharing your love of doors and the link, and thanks for playing along with Dreaming of France. Here’s my Dreaming of France meme
ReplyDeleteHow funny! But the doors are so photogenic, you can't blame us.
DeleteLove the Paris doors. Have been trying to do some watercolors of them, with mixed results.....
ReplyDeleteKaren
I love that idea! We purchased a watercolor of a building on Boulevard Saint Michel with a beautiful door as a souvenir for our son. I scrolled through the pictures I'd taken on my phone until we got to one the artist (one of those along the Seine) had done a painting of.
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