Unfinished business would not generally be considered to be a good thing. Sometime during our last few weeks in France, however, I latched onto the idea that perhaps it was ok.
During our six days south, the leaves in Burgundy seemed to burst with color. The first day back, I unpacked instead of capturing the beauty in photos. The very next day, the cold rain pounded and the north winds blew. I missed my chance.
I had planned to take pictures in each neighboring village. Didn't get it done. I wanted to stock up on my favorite French products. Got a few, but not all.
We had places to go and people to see. Invitations given that were left unfulfilled.
The "girls" and I had spent so much time in the pasture behind the chateau that it was as familiar as our own backyard. Throughout the fall, the extra apples went to the horses who lived in back. Once wild and stand-offish, they now ate from my hand and allowed me to comb burrs from their manes. It was silly to think they'd miss me as much as I'd miss them.
When Nicole asked if we would mind a little going-away luncheon, given by our new friends, I was honored. I made a special request ...not too much wine (We had to drive to Paris that afternoon) and no tears.
Everything pointed to the same thing...we were not done here. We DO have unfinished business. I couldn't imagine never seeing our friends again. I couldn't allow myself to think that I wouldn't be back. It wasn't good-bye, just farewell for now.
I folded my everyday shirts, shorts, a few odds and ends and placed them on the top shelf of the armoire, next to our room. I combed the pony, one last time and then put Mark's old brush right next to the fence post. It will be covered with grass, but I'll find it.
None of our good-byes were the long-teary sort. It just wasn't needed because we'll be back...we have things to do and people to see.
If we'd done it all or not met these friends, it would all be different. So, as strange as it sounds, I am truly grateful for the unfinished business and for those heartstrings that will keep tugging until we return to this other place that we call home.
See the people that we miss...photo album: Saying Farewell