A father shares the pleasures of Paris
By Linda Mattucci Schiavone FOR THE INQUIRER
It has been more than 25 years since my father and I visited France together.
For a high-school junior, it was all very heady: picnics of bread and cheese in the Paris fog, cold and ancient castles, half-costumed dancers at the Moulin Rouge. We stayed in a luxurious hotel in Paris, dined elegantly, and toured like typical Americans on their first visit to that magical city.
It was the first and only trip that my father and I took without the rest of the family. Two years ago, my dad reawakened these memories and surprised me with some of his. It was only weeks before his death from lung cancer, and we were reminiscing about people and places.
He told me that it wasn't the landmarks, the food, or the palaces that remained with him from that trip, but the memory of sharing these pleasures with his 16-year-old daughter. I had always believed this, too, for I can still feel his rough hand helping me descend the crooked stairs into a century-old restaurant, but I cannot recall one detail about the meal. Likewise, I can hear him introducing his daughter to each waiter and tour guide we met.
I just never thought my dad had experienced this same feeling. Certainly, it wasn't characteristic of him to express such emotions.
My hope is that our children will take away the same pleasures from our trips together as a family, that they will remember the laughter and relive the excitement before the name of a museum or a bridge. If they come to understand that traveling with someone you love contains unparalleled joys, then my father's gift to me will become a legacy that his grandchildren will have inherited.
Linda Mattucci Schiavone lives in Berwyn, Chester County.
In Rome, coffee that refreshes
By Sister Barbara Bradley FOR THE INQUIRER
My recent pilgrimage to Rome left me thirsting for more - more holy places, historic sites, ancient treasures, trendy fashions. However, amid all of the memories I hold dear, I'd like to remark on one discovery that was a real find.
I tasted, tested, rejected, and drank coffee daily as my drink of choice. While meandering through Rome, I couldn't think why coffee had become such a sought-after pleasure in each of my peregrinations. Unable or unwilling to sample beverages with perhaps a greater capacity to please, or pleasing a greater population, I repeatedly chose this brew over some of the more popular offerings.
