Family

Of all the amazing things I’ve been lucky enough to experience this summer, there is nothing more that I enjoy than getting to know my French family, this distant arm of the Michel’s that in my youth existed only through family gossip and blurry childhood memories. It has been wonderful to live here with them, to partake in their vacations, to put faces to the names I’ve heard all of my life. My family is rich with fascinating histories, delicious secrets, intriguing pasts. Being here with all different branches of this unique family tree, I have the opportunity to learn something new each vacation. And I get to learn about my family. Family is an amazing thing.

In Paris, I absolutely adored staying with my cousin Laurence. She was, at that point, the only French family I felt I knew at all, having stayed with her once in the past as a lovesick teen chasing my man to the city of romance. She tolerated all of my ridiculous and childish mistakes then, and this year, she led me through one challenge after another. She was wonderful. Sometime in June I sent her flowers just to thank her for being her.

In July, it was amazing to get to know Sarah, the closest thing to a girl cousin my age I’ll ever have. She was an intriguing woman, full of mystery and kindness. I loved being twenty-something with her and her friends, even though her friends did not leave nearly as a positive impression on me as Sarah had.

When I finally did get to meet Sylvia and her family, I was blown away. They were so kind and warm, inviting me to eat with them and enjoy their vacation. We went to the beach together, I spoke to her children and her husband in French, and I felt welcomed. Sylvia took the time to teach me about France, about French, about her and her piece of my family. I was thrilled.

Now I have been adopted again by the big hearts and loving hands of Ludovic and his family. I eat with them at many of their meals and when I don’t, they almost seem disappointed. I’d love to spend every second simply in their presence – it’s wonderful to hear the sound of family chatter echoing through the big walls of this old house. But I must remember that this is their vacation and I am a guest. Though I am family and obviously invited, I would like to give them their space, too.

And that’s just the here and now. Everyone offers a bit of history, some piece to the enormous Michel puzzle, that I can take away to treasure. Someday I’ll learn where exactly we come from, all the stories behind all the names. Of course, that feat may take my entire lifetime.

This adventure has also brought me closer to my family at home, which I am forever grateful. I have begun to have a new relationship with all I have left in the States, appreciating them more and more, intrigued by their stories, grateful to have such wonderful family. In a week the Americans come here. I am excited; this is family I already know but family I get to become closer to. And it means I’ve survived. I survived the summer without knowing anyone, without having a constant guiding hand or a companion in this house – save, of course, for my Tequila. I just hope, in my summer spent with family and friends, I have not made too many faux pas and have successful expressed my gratitude to everyone along the way.

When I arrived at Chez Michel that fateful day in June, I was filled with joy and gratitude. I left the house exactly as I had found it, thrilled to be living there and happy with it just the way it was. Now I look outside and laugh. Everyone who comes adds something new, changes something slightly. Everyone rearranged the kitchen. I roll with the punches, learning where they put which glasses and how they keep the cereal and snacks. I take in the good, enjoying the new additions to Chez Michel. I change nothing. Change is for whomever comes next.

The first people to stay here in June, when I stayed at the cabanon, were friends of my uncles. They bought a beach umbrella for the house, but their real contribution was putting the beautiful wooden chairs outside, overlooking the view, past the little table, onto the harbor. These chairs, in this locale, are what became the “nappy chairs” for my immediate family – who also brought the green table outside. They set it up behind the nappy chairs, arranging the chairs just right so that everyone eating could have a view. We ate every meal out there, taking our dinners long into the darkness of night. We bought actual wine glasses for the house, for to us – in order to vacation in the Côte d’Azur, one must drink a lot of wine. Then Sarah and her friends came; they didn’t like drinking wine by candlelight as my family had, so they moved the table out front, under the big driveway light. They bought a pack of Tarot – a very French card game – and left it to the house (though I haven’t seen it since). Sylvia and her family dug out the hammock and set that up, where now all members of Ludo’s party (myself included) spend long hours curled up, reading the afternoons away. And Ludo has done much for the house, structurally (he is apparently the “big boss” next to my grandfather; Alberte & Z took extra care in preparing for his arrival. I had never seen the house so clean. Z even raked and washed the windows. And Alberte’s been back since their arrival to clean again.) but he has also added a beautiful new painting to the dining area, a painting of the familiar view of Cap Camarat. I am excited to discover what changes the Americans bring…

I love it here. I’m living a dream, discovering the unknowns I’ve always wondered about. I love meeting my French family, I love growing closer to the Americans I’ve always known. I love making new friends, calling this area home. I have a dog and a scooter and a French bank account. I play Tarot. I drink Ricard. Careful, I just might start smoking and driving like a maniac…

Now, to only better my French.


I am thrilled, too, because I changed my airline ticket today. I have to change it again (so that I can take the dog to the States) but as of right now, I’m living here for two and half more months. Yea!