FRENCH WORD-A-DAY

At Château la Tour de L'Evêque, in Pierrefeu du Var

TODAY'S WORD: UN AUXILIAIRE DE VIE

    : a caregiver

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

When I stop to think about it, July has been the most challenging month of this year so far. Though it began with excellent news (Mom’s insurance came through!) and the joy of our 30th wedding anniversary celebration for Jean-Marc and me, tensions were rising between mother and daughter here at our multi-generational home. It seemed the honeymoon phase of this caregiving journey we are on together was over. Nurse Kristi was all but fired! Then the heatwave hit, followed by a strange plague of mites (and their bites), making it feel like I had arrived at the gates of hell.

For some reason, those venom-filled acariens (possibly “les pyémotes”—our friend Pierre suggested) were attacking me with a vengeance! These pests, which come out in spring and summer, nest inside wood, infesting places like the fireplace, antique furniture, and perhaps even the wooden knobs where I hang my bathrobe. Whereas six weeks ago I received a dozen or so of these bites, this time there were too many to count. The venomous piqûres turned into itchy welts, and I was absolutely miserable by Thursday when we were set to go to a vernissage at Château La Tour de l’Evêque, where our son, Max, is in charge of wine export.

Waking up Friday morning, itching and unable to scratch, I was desperate. “Je vais pleurer!” I said to Jean-Marc. I’m learning it helps to say the words “I am going to cry” or “I feel like crying” when my body can’t release tears of despair or frustration. For one, it allows my husband to know I’m at a very low point. Ironically, a 30-second emotional commercial on TV, a wedding, or a baptism can make me bawl instantly. But other matters of the heart and, in this case, psyche, remain invisible when I shut down.

Just when it seemed I could take the torture no longer, my daughter came into the room. “How are you doing, Mom?”

After I let it all out—the unbearable bites and the wicked heat—Jackie assured me: “Ça passera.” My daughter had unknowingly cited one of my favorite assurances, This too shall pass, and the effect was immediate. The itching subsided in light of the thought that this situation would not last forever. Jackie was right. This current trial would soon be over, and things would patch up between Mom and me—just give it time.

In the days following the emotional and physical release, a series of serendipitous encounters took place as friends and helpers came out of the woodwork (instead of those pesky mites!). It began when I was walking back from the pharmacy and a woman on the opposite trottoir said hello. I recognized her because of her chocolate labrador. “Comment allez-vous?” she said, reaching out.

“Très bien, merci!” I was giddy, suddenly imagining an invitation to her avant-garde bungalow, which I’d witnessed being renovated all last year!

A few blocks later, I recognized another local and her pit bull. We’ve run into each other a few times at the farmers market and at les roches plates, the flat rocks where we swim. “Coucou!” she said, crossing the street. We chatted on the sidewalk like old friends. Counting my blessings on the way home, I now had the energy to call on another neighbor I’d met at the beach a year ago while she was training her Australian Shepherd. Nathalie, it turns out, is a nurse. When I explained to her that my mom needed a weekly injection and twice-weekly blood samples, as prescribed recently by her doctor, Nathalie said she could help, and true to her word, she’s been here almost every day this week. And in her absence, she's sent Nicolas, who Mom also likes a lot!

Then, Sunday, while walking to church, I stopped to look at a rack of sundresses (desperate for something cool to wear in this canicule) when a young lady inside the store came out. “Kristi?”

“Yes...”

“It’s Fiona! We met at Esprit—the clothing store where I used to work.”

“Yes, yes! I remember you.” How could I forget this friendly, helpful and professional woman who was about my daughter’s age? She had made an impression on me last fall when I was preparing for a trip to Paris. “Comment ça va?” I smiled.

“Sadly, I was laid off! They have closed down all of the Esprit retail boutiques in France. Thankfully, I found work here two days a week.”

“I’m so sorry you lost your job. What would you like to do?” I asked.

“I’d like to be an auxiliaire de vie and help seniors.”

What a coincidence! “Just this week,” I explained, “I received a flyer in the mail for a company proposing aide à domicile. I saved it as I am looking for someone to assist my mom. Maybe we can work something out?”

With promises to keep in touch we hugged, and I continued on my way to church, feeling so blessed I couldn’t imagine the prédicateur could top this with a more hopeful message. But he did, and it was, in a nutshell, about opening our hearts: “Jesus stands at the door knocking, but the doorknob is on the other side of the door,” said the Irish preacher, in perfect French, at our tiny local église baptiste.

Well, this week, dear reader, I opened the door, and look at all the angels who rushed in!

It is hard to ask for help, but once you do, things have a way of falling into place. Now that Nathalie and Nicolas are here and Fiona is on the way, it is having an effect on both Mom and me. We’re both up early and dressed, dusting off our counters and preparing for these angels to help a couple of would-be hermits. While I still have some doubts as to whether I can keep up with the regular visitors, I understand that change is good and will keep us from falling into a pit.

Speaking of pits and hell, my mite bites are fading, and I am cooling down with the help of regular splashes of water from the sink, a few ceiling fans, and some sundresses I’ve located in my bags of summer clothes that I need to sort out. Maybe Fiona can help me too? 

I’ll wrap up this entry with a giant hug to all of you. It's surprising how much love manifests when we finally reach for that doorknob. Remember, it’s on the inside of la porte! Only you can reach it. Love is on the outside knocking.

Post Notes: Monday morning I hurried over to Mom’s to wake her before Nurse Nathalie arrived. I was greeted with the biggest hug and several “I LOVE YOUs.”

“You know you are my favorite person,” I assured Mom, hugging her back. Next time Mom is at a low point, as I was recently, I’m going to share my tip: just say the words “J’ai besoin de pleurer”—I need to cry. You may or may not experience a cathartic release, but you’ll have gotten the words out.

Now to get the mites out… I’ve got to mix some beeswax and insecticide together and plug all the holes in our wood furniture. Bestioles begone! See you next week and thank you for reading.

Oh, and one more post note! Just this morning, before posting today's entry, while out on a walk I ran into the woman with the cool, newly-renovated bungalow. She invited me into her house for a tour! 

Grand-mère et petite-fille et petite chienne. Grandmother and granddaughter and granddog

REMERCIEMENTS
Sincere appreciation to the following readers who recently sent in a blog donation. Merci beaucoup! --Kristi

Ann S.
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Jill B. & John M.

Thanks so much for your delightful newsletter. We enjoy it so much. --Jill B. & John M.

It's such a gift to read about your life in France, including its ups and downs. I often think about your life lessons, and the photographs are so beautiful! Thank you! --Kelly B.

Max showing us around Château La Tour during a vernissage for American artist Barbara Jauffret.

I was excited to meet this American and French national, who's lived in Marseille since 1981.

COMMENTS
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FRENCH VOCABULARY

Audio File Click here to listen to the French and English terms below

les acariens = mites
les piqûres = bites
le vernissage = art exhibition
le Château La Tour de l'Evêque = Château La Tour de l'Evêque
Je vais pleurer = I am going to cry
Comment allez-vous? = How are you?
Très bien, merci! = Very well, thank you!
le trottoir = sidewalk
les roches plates = the flat rocks
Coucou = Hi
Comment ça va? = How are you?
un auxiliaire de vie = caregiver
le prédicateur = preacher
l'église baptiste = Baptist church
la porte = the door
la bestiole = bug

I wore this dress 30 years ago to our town hall wedding, and again on July 4th to surprise my husband. For more recent pictures, see "La Robe" (the wedding dress story) and scroll to the end.