fils
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Our Smokey, all grown up now, would like to add: Je suis toujours le fils de mon père. ("Still the son of my father... even if he does live far away, in Marseilles.")
fils (feece) noun, masculine
: son
C'est bien le fils de son père = he is very much his father's son
être le fils de ses oeuvres = to be a self-made man
le Fils de l'homme/de Dieu = the Son of man/of God
le fils âiné, cadet = the older/younger brother
tel père, tel fils = like father, like son
Know of any other "fils" expressions? Thanks for sharing them in the comments box.
.
A Day in a French Life... by Kristin Espinasse
Carry a child and one day he'll carry you
In the geography of child-rearing, there are sacred endroits, or turning points, before which a parent stops, shakes her head, and wipes her teary mirettes. Much as a cartographer does, she will, there on the map of her rugged heart, carefully pencil in these notable landmarks.
Before our first child was born, I was given one of those "baby memory books". It was sealed with a ribbon and, inside, apart from the journal lines, it had a place in which one could paste the baby photos. Though I had the best intentions, I have always felt terribly guilty for not keeping up with the record books, by noting down every "first" in the life of my children.
Çela dit, I did have the time to note a few pre-birth impressions, before all that "journaling momentum" that I'd built up flew out the door the moment our fils was born. After that earth-stopping event, it was all I could do to keep track of feedings, diaper changings, and hormones raging (my own; baby blues?).
But a recent "first step" of our son's is something I hope never to forget. Unlike a first tooth, the experience has been a near mystical moment. Indulge me now, will you, as I take up space in this public journal to sketch in an uplifting instant.
June 26, 2011 : Max, 16 years and 41 days old. On this otherwise ordinary summer evening... our son reached down, picked up his mother and carried her off!
As go mystical moments, everything around the event is either dulled (in comparison) and forgotten, or--quite the opposite--everything around the event is crystal clear! My experience was twofold:
Forgotten were all those "unimportants". I remember walking into Max's room that night. In robot mode, I had been going down my bedtime list: "Max, don't forget to pick up these clothes off the floor. Open your window for some fresh air! Remember to take your asthma and allergy meds. And I know school's out - but don't stay up too late!" With that, I set down my laundry basket, threw out my arms and waited for my favorite moment: le câlin, or hug. It was the only natural, non-automated part of the "tuck-in" schedule.
I still don't know what bit him, but I noticed a magical smile on my son's face as he turned away from his computer. Max's sourire grew and grew until he seemed possessed... possessed by happiness! In his holey socks, he slid across the wooden floor, over to the door, pulled me into the room.... and swept me off the floor!
Crystal clear now, were the events I'd mourned (having never noted them down): first tooth, first step, first chagrin! The first time he ran away... his first girlfriend!
There stood my son and, with one strong arm beneath my back and the other beneath my dangling legs, I was suspended in midair, held secure in the arms of my firstborn.
I shrieked as Max began to turn... and spin with me! We twirled round and round, stopping to gasp for air after so much laughter. I could not believe my own son could now carry me! As if sensing my doubt, Max tightened his hold, swooping me up higher and higher! How to describe the experience of that moment when the one you once held up... is now holding you! I felt like a child in my own son's arms, there was that warmth and security, there was that sacred glimpse of eternity!
As we spun round the room, breathless and laughing, all those moments I had failed to record in the baby memory book came back to me. Our son's first swim... his first solo bike ride... his first time behind the wheel, as driver! The privilege was now mine--to review these events, in my son's arms, whirling, literally, with the moment!
I know it was indulgent, this sudden role reversal, but I enjoyed every second. And, looking up into my boy's starry eyes, more than his weary mother, I was a newborn, cherished and adored. Witnessing the reflection in my son's dazzling eyes, I might have even been his prize.
What about role reversal? It has a negative connotation. But what about the positives? Share your own experience or talk about the other joys of family, and how we sometimes "carry" one another in life. To leave a comment, click here.
Our son, Max... at an age when I could still spin him around! Photo taken 8 years ago. For a recent photo of Max please click here.
French Vocabulary
un endroit = place
les mirettes (f,pl) = eyes, peepers
Çela dit = that being said
le fils = son
le câlin = cuddle, hug
le sourire = smile
Click to enlarge this photo of a recent winetasting here at our vineyard. Would you, too, like to visit us? Leave a message in the comments box to let me know.
The smiling faces are, from left to right: Bruce, Sandy, Kathy, Dick, Nancy, Dave, Tom, Jean-Marc, Kristin, Bill, Jules, Ann, Janis.
Jean-Marc, I, and Tom.
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For more online reading: The Lost Gardens: A Story of Two Vineyards and a Sobriety
Beautifully written! This story will be moving mothers with growing children to tears! I feel with you so very much! Çela dit, I remember fondly an insightful saying: "The farther you allow your children to venture into the world, the happier they will be that there is always a home to come back to - and be it just in the heart of a mother"
(and father, of course!)
Posted by: Laura | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 11:21 AM
A beautiful heart-warming story, Kristin ... thank you ♥
Posted by: Vera | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 11:43 AM
Very sweet story, Kristin, about a very special young man.
Posted by: Bill in St. Paul | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 12:30 PM
This story really struck a chord with me. I just had a wonderful visit from my 24 year old son and he lifted me up when he chose to film me while we rode bikes together through the park on the way to the marché. He similarly surprised me when he was 14 and took me to breakfast on my birthday and paid for it himself. Aren't we lucky to have such fabulous young men in our lives!
Posted by: Shelley Longmire | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 12:44 PM
I have tears rolling down my cheeks. Max is becoming an amazing soul-filled man. Thank you for sharing your blessings. Mary
Posted by: mary | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 01:19 PM
Great story, Kristin! Great son, too.
Posted by: Paul Heffron | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 01:55 PM
Love your writing about the role reversal, it's just magical!
Posted by: joyce mason | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 02:07 PM
I don't have a son...just a wonderful daughter..but this was so poignant Kristin. Beautifully written. We all have tears, it's so lovely!
Posted by: aneyefordetail | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 02:12 PM
Great story and pic, will see you in Sept., will be staying in Avignon and will drive up to say Hello, traveling with an old freind from Australia,who has lived in Phoenix, will call about the 16th of Sept. Cheers and Bonne chance. Lou
Posted by: lou bogue | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 02:18 PM
This is one of those moments that one treasures forever, one of the really great rewards of having children.
Reading about Max carrying you, I was reminded of a time when my son (now 20), was not more than five. We went to the swimming pool, where water does most of the work holding us up. But up to that point, I'd been careful about putting demands on my son. This day, after I gave him a ride in the water, he gave me one! He was able to hold me on his back while walking around the shallow end of the pool. For some reason, I've always cherished this memory, probably because it has a "milestone" quality.
Posted by: Marianne Rankin | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 02:20 PM
As coincidence would have it, today is my youngest son's 20th birthday. Gone are the teen years forever. A bitter sweet moment for a mother. Your story today made me think back to all those childhood memories and relive then - Jordan in his superman pajamas, Jordan with his first fish, Jordan dressed for his first day of school looking up to his older brother. In the busyness of everyday life, we often don't take the time to remember, but you've helped me to do that.
Thank you for that.
Posted by: Kim Ross | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 02:23 PM
Beautiful story! I am a mother and understand and feel the moment. My sons have not swooped me up but they have been needed as the stronger person. It is a time of pride and sadness because as you say, it is a big transition time. Sniff, Sniff!
He is so handsome! Thanks for sharing.
Posted by: anne wirth | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 02:23 PM
je voudrais a visiter avec vous. Mon mari et mois allons a passe cinq semaines a Avignon en septembre 2012 pour celebrere notre anniversaire. Ca sera mon quatrieme voyage a Provence. Les trois premiers etaient des voyage de velo. Nous allons des excursions d'un journee velo pour visiter et revisiter les villages enchanteurs de la Provence.
Je voudrais touts information vous avez a parteger.
P.S. We are attemping to learn to speak French . . . a life long goal of mine. Lots of brain cramps and my ears are slow.
P.P.S. Nous apprecions toujour votre newsletter.
Posted by: Jill Sands | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 02:39 PM
What a sweet and joy filled moment and how kind of you to share it.
Posted by: Lynn | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 02:40 PM
Wow! You compose so beautifully! You truly have the gift of words! Merci for sharing it with us.
Posted by: mhwebb | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 02:54 PM
Salut Kristin,
Great story! With three grown sons, all bigger than the old man, I can relate to the feeling. Now I call on them to help me with difficult physical jobs.
Speaking of sons, with unemployment very high here in Phoenix, families are teaching their sons to be shoe-shine boys. Why? Because in Phoenix the “sun” always shines!
À bientôt
Posted by: Herm in Phoenix, Az | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 03:05 PM
Beautiful. Thank you for this heart-warming story.
Posted by: Pat Cargill | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 03:15 PM
Oh Kristi, your story today is a treasure. I have so many memories of you exhibiting the same qualities Max is bringing into your life. You will find your children bringing more and more love and joy into your life.
XOXO
MOM
Posted by: Jules Greer | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 03:43 PM
Heart-warmingly beautiful, dear Kristin -
merci to you AND Max for sharing!
Posted by: Anne - Music and Markets Tours | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 03:53 PM
I also have tears running down my cheeks. A beautiful and special story to share with us all. As a new mother, I look forward to all the wonderful surprises that my daughter will bring to us.
Thanks again for reminding us of all the special moments that life can bring.
Posted by: Erin from Canada | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 03:55 PM
So beautiful! Your story reminds me of the children's book "I Love You Forever", by Robert Munsch. Again, you bring tears to my eyes. Thank you, Kristin and Max. xoxo
Posted by: Esther | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 04:04 PM
My Son, now a drill sergeant in the Army, swooped me up and spun me around too! And I remember having the same thoughts you did! Such wonderful memories you are making! I remember carrying my son all the time when he was little. He did not like to be out of my sight. Now he's a man and in charge of other men's lives. I am very proud of him!
Posted by: Marcia | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 04:18 PM
Max looks so much like his Maman!! Such a handsome young man! Merci Kristen, for sharing, and for keeping this lovely moment forever via your beautiful writing. Such gifts will be pure gold to your children in years to come.
Annette Ledoux Heath
Posted by: Annette Heath | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 04:32 PM
Thanks for sharing this sweet moment with us. I have two sons (31 and 26) and special moments like that are the milestones of our relationship so much more than what gets recorded in a baby book. Annette is right that your writing is such an amazing gift to your children!
Posted by: Cheryl in STL | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 05:06 PM
So very beautiful. Thank you for such lovely writing and for so beautifully portraying the moment; my day will be brighter because of you.
Posted by: Frances Anamosa | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 05:19 PM
Speaking of role-reversal, a few years ago my mother was diagnosed with dementia. Recently, she and my dad stopped by on their way to the mall and I noticed she was wearing the same stained shirt I saw her in last week. I thought maybe she can't get that stain out. So, I offered her one of my shirts and I would work out that stain. Lo and behold, I realized she hasn't been washing her clothes because it wasn't stained just dirty. Ma mere always made sure we went out in clean clothes. Now I do the same for her.
Posted by: Lisa Teed | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 05:23 PM
thanks so much Kristen, your exquisite moment was heart-wrenchingly beautiful. I could so feel it as I read. The symbolism of the moment also struck. It was a "second ago my daughter was toddling about, then a happy but awkward adolescent, then in high school. Now she is 33, living on the opposite coast from me (she in NY, I in SF). She is a singer, actress, photographer, videographer. Her wonderful way of being in the world and excellent advice to me (sometimes I give her some too) often inspires me and carries me. Time is swiftly flowing, and still, as you said, the memories of their being tiny, and all her "firsts" are there as if yesterday.
Gayle Markow
Posted by: Gayle Markow | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 05:24 PM
Thank you for this moving moment; I felt as if I were in the room with you smiling and laughing. We said "tel pere tel fils and fille" many times as ours were growing. So many sweet memories we mothers hold in our hearts.
Posted by: Jean(ne) P in MN | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 05:26 PM
I know losing his sister was very hard on my son, but despite his own grieving he has helped to carry me as well. Nothing can fill this gaping place where my daughter is supposed to be, but I am forever grateful to my son and now to his sweet girlfriend for bringing me joy and love and strong caring arms.
Kristin, merci beaucoup pour votre chere vie et votre belles histoires.
Posted by: Meg Tipper | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 05:28 PM
Your son is an imp, and a romantic one at that! I'm sure he will break many a heart. I would love to visit you and your family some day. This summer I will be vacationing in the french Alpes in August with friends from Nancy. I would love to come at harvest time and help out, perhaps next year. Sophie
Posted by: Sophie Day | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 06:10 PM
Thank you Kristin for such a poignant and beautifully written story. It reminded me of a children's book entitled, "Love You Forever" by Robert Munsch. The book starts out with a young mother who sings to her baby, "I'll love you forever/I'll love you for always/As long as I'm living/My baby you'll be." The book ends when she is too old and sick to hold him, and the roles are at last reversed.
Thank you too for your hospitality when my husband,our two sons and I visited you in May.
Posted by: Hedy Holmberg | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 06:19 PM
"A glimpse of eternity"...so perfectly wrought. Bless you, Kristin. And what an appreciative and loving grandmother you will be one day to your son's and daughter's children yet to come! Hope you and your mom both live a hundred years!
Posted by: Ellen | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 06:44 PM
So many times I haven't left a comment, even though I wanted to, but my commenting timidity is nothing in the face of how beautiful that story is. I'm going to go and lift my seven year old up, and probably cry, again.
Thank you!
Posted by: Bronwyn | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 07:06 PM
Beautiful story...I've got goose bumps reading it. I could feel the love between you two. Always a joy to read your blog! I love your photos for today too! :)
The one role reversale moment that comes to mind is when I asked Ariel (my best-friend's little girl), who was 10 at the time how do I make a phone call with her cell phone. She smiled...laughed a little, then slid the top up and voilà...there was the phone part...hahaha Boy, did I feel a bit old at that moment. LOL! I still don't get the text messaging part...why text when you can just leave a two second message..."Call me!" Ya know? :)
Posted by: Lisa A., CA | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 07:19 PM
You made me cry, Kristin. What a sweet son you have raised. I can't imagine my own 15 year old ever doing the same, but if he did, I would definitely blog it out to the world. Merci beaucoup for sharing!
Posted by: Avad Fan | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 07:19 PM
I will add my joy (and tears) to those already shared! What a blessing it is to watch as our children grow inward as well as outward. When Andy and I went on our Greek cruise in October I felt so special every night after dinner when we all said our "good nights". Andy (now 29) always gave me a hug and a kiss and said "I love you, Mom". And now as I lift my mom in and out of her wheelchair I hope she can always feel my love just as I did all those years ago when she lifted and carried me.
Posted by: Candy in SW KS (for just a little longer!) | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 10:00 PM
Kristin,
The next time you have a small gathering, let me know (I have a large, overly friendly yellow lab). I would like to sample some wine (and of course, buy a few bottles). Larry & Marilyn (Senas)
Posted by: Larry & Marilyn Griffith | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 10:01 PM
All smiles here…. A glee filled glimpse into one of the magical moments of motherhood. Such a beautiful young man Max is!
Posted by: Stacy, Applegate, Oregon | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 10:34 PM
What a great relationship you have with your "teenage son", who is not afraid to exhibit his feelings for you. How tender. I'm sure that his sensitivity will always be there for you and others. You and Jean-Marc are great parents and have to wonderful children to show for it. I'm sure that you learned a lot from Jules, and I'm sure that you have thanked her time and again.
Posted by: Kathleen | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 11:24 PM
Life's simple pleasures are what gives us the greatest happiness. As a mother, I've come to understand that it isn't just the physical presence of my children that gives me pleasure. But my core contentment is directly proportionate with their well-being and happiness.
Thanks for this happy story that left me very happy. And also for the wonderful vocabulary phrases & words!!
Posted by: Karen Whitcome (Towson , Md USA) | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 11:50 PM
Esther, I used to read that book to my children ALL THE TIME! I ALWAYS cried through it. Thanks for reminding me to dig it out again!
Posted by: Karen Whitcome (Towson , Md USA) | Wednesday, June 29, 2011 at 11:59 PM
A hands-on, touching, and up-lifting beautiful story!
You must know how much I wish that I could visit chez espinasse once more, "If the mountain won't come to Mohammed, Mohammed will go to the mountain."
Comme toujours!
Posted by: Fred Caswell | Thursday, June 30, 2011 at 01:03 AM
Would like to visit your place but not sure if it will be possible for us. We are planning to go to Nice and Menton sometime in the autumn. Not sure how far or how accessible your home would be from there. Will not have a car, using trains or buses.
Posted by: Henry Cross | Thursday, June 30, 2011 at 01:18 AM
I'm not a Mom, but I loved your story. Thanks for sharing your sweet son with us.
Posted by: Carmen Clarke | Thursday, June 30, 2011 at 02:22 AM
Living should be just moments like this. Can see the twinkle in Max's eyes as he hatches his plan. Oh the laughter, the memories! Thank you for sharing in your wonderful way this evocative slice of life.
Max's weightlifting is really paying off.
Posted by: Betty Gleason | Thursday, June 30, 2011 at 04:14 AM
This was a beautiful story, Kristin! Your writing just gets better & better!
As far as a visit, we would love to stop by during our stay at Les Pelerins - during the week of Sept 3-10. A bientot, j'espere!
Posted by: Judy Feldman | Thursday, June 30, 2011 at 07:25 AM
Kristin,
My son Robin would surely enjoy Max. Tonight I rode his mountain bike over the big bumps at an island party. He was proud of me. These moments are precious. He leaves for the New England Conservatory of Music August 26th at 17. I never realized when he skipped sixth grade that I was going to be missing a year of his childhood! I love your writing and would love to visit you in France. I am taking some time for myself in September to live in Sauve for five months and paint and write. I would love to come visit you and your vineyard. You would be welcome to come to Sauve too. It is a charming medievial village on the the Vidroule River 30 minutes North of Nimes. I can send you a photo of La Maison des Hirondelles which I renovated and enjoyed for the delicious month of May last year. My website is: www.alisonjohnston.com
A bientôt, Alison
Enjoy! Will you send me the location of your vineyards? A bientot!
Alison Johnston Lohrey
Posted by: Alison Johnston | Thursday, June 30, 2011 at 07:55 AM
It's a brilliantly written piece that rises like a tsunami and swirls the reader in the eddies of time's relentless current.
Posted by: Jan | Friday, July 01, 2011 at 07:16 AM
Hello Kristin,
This was such a heartwarming post. I was teary-eyed reading this and Max's sweet little 8 year old face is precious!
Love, Love, Love this!!
It would be so special to visit you one day!
Amicalement,
Eileen
Posted by: Eileen deCamp | Friday, July 01, 2011 at 02:31 PM
Kristin, I just loved this story so very much. Forget the things you didn't fill in....You are the best chronicler of the present there ever was, and I know that your kids appreciate that you are involving them in everything in such a warm way. Or, if they don't at present, they will in the future.
So, drop the guilt trip...Live in the present, for it's what we have. My baby books look like yours, but, boy, do I have volumes of the rest of their life!!
Warmly,
PJ
Posted by: P J Luckey | Monday, July 04, 2011 at 02:32 AM
Hopefully making a first visit to Europe/France/Provence May 2012.. with small group from French class.. would be GREAT to stop by/visit... have to locate you on map!
Posted by: Meredith | Tuesday, July 05, 2011 at 05:16 PM
It would be wonderful if you could add the pronunciation guide back into your posts. Even if Jean-Marc is too busy to speak the words, a written guide would help. I enjoy your writing very much.
Posted by: AJ | Tuesday, July 05, 2011 at 10:10 PM
I get rather worried when either of my two sons try to lift me in case they drop me! yes, you are both great parents and your children bear this out.
would love to come a do a wine tasting some day. Our daughter worked doing this in ~Stellenbosch for some time.
Alice Halliday - Oxford, UK
Posted by: Alice Halliday | Thursday, September 08, 2011 at 05:17 PM