Notre Dame before the fire

When I made my to-do list yesterday morning, I wrote down “blog about Paris trip.” I expected it to be a quick, lighthearted post about our vacation. Lighthearted, because so many people have already been to Paris, a city that seems to be the result of a centuries-long effort to create as many beautiful things as possible. What would I ever be able to say about it that was new?

I had no idea one of the highlights of that vacation would meet with tragedy.

We did a lot of things in Paris. A private guide ushered us around the Louvre and the Orsay for hours, telling us about great works of art. (It was supposed to be a small group tour, but no one else showed up.)

 

Bryn and Mr. Donovan kissing in front of the Louvre, a huge palace #Notre Dame Before the Fire

figure standing in front of a huge clock with a window in the middle, Musee D'Orsay #Notre Dame Before The Fire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We ate in cafés where the waiters cheerfully switched to English after hearing our attempts to order in French. We walked through the opera house, the Palais Garnier, after hours.

lavish interior of opera house #Notre Dame Before The Fire empty theater full of velvet-covered seats #Notre Dame Before The Fire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We toured Versailles and drank hot wine in the chilly gardens.

Notre Dame Before The Fire

Notre Dame Before The Fire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At Père Lachaise cemetery, we looked for the graves of Oscar Wilde and Frédéric Chopin, but couldn’t find them. We’ve never been good at directions. And so what? As Mr. Donovan said, all the people buried there were important.

Elaborate grave with a statue of two women holding up a wreath #Notre Dame Before The Fire

 

We strolled through the Luxembourg Garden and the Tuileries Garden.

Luxembourg Gardens #Notre Dame Before The FireTuileries #Notre Dame Before the Fire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We visited the Rodin Museum, seeking out the bust of Charles Baudelaire. And we went to the Cluny Museum early and took in the mystery of the unicorn tapestries, which had fascinated me since I was a child. We had the room to ourselves.

Rodin Museum #Notre Dame Before the Fire

Cluny Tapestry Lady and the Unicorn #Notre Dame Before the Fire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In our hotel room one morning, we heard a woman in a nearby apartment screaming at someone—in French, of course, except for a couple of expletives in English. Another morning, we had a romantic time and ate chocolate croissants afterward.

We went to Montmartre and listened to a man play classical guitar on the street.

We went to the top of the Eiffel Tower at twilight, when the whole city looked blue. On the ground again, we reveled in the sight of the Tower at night.

blue Paris from the Eiffel #l'heure bleue #Notre Dame After the Fire

Eiffel Tower at night #Notre Dame Before the Fire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once we’d gotten on the plane to go home, though, I asked Mr. Donovan what his favorite thing had been. He said, “Notre-Dame.”

And I wasn’t surprised. In a city filled with lavish beauty, it was probably the most beautiful thing of all.

We spent a long time in Notre-Dame Cathedral, eleven days ago. A youth choir was singing, and for a long while, we sat in the pews: listening, looking up at the high arched ceiling and the windows, and praying.

Notre Dame Before the Fire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mr. Donovan lit a candle for his father, who passed away last year. We talked about how he would’ve loved it, and then I felt like he was there, enjoying it with us. We took in beautiful paintings, sculptures, and carved wooden scenes of Jesus and His disciples.

And then we walked all the way around the outside of the building. The cherry trees were all in bloom.

 

Notre Dame before the fire

 

It’s shocking to think of how much can change in an instant. The city has rebuilt after devastating losses—the Franco-Prussian War, the Commune, and the World Wars are only the more recent examples. But it hurt so much for me, an American who had been there only once, to see the cathedral in flames. I can’t imagine what it must be like for the people of Paris.

Most of my days aren’t like the ones we spent in Paris, filled with beauty and wonder. I split the time between the office and our apartment, and many days can feel the same.

 

I try to write down at least something about every day in my diary. And there is always some small detail—so ordinary, it seems at the time, barely worthy of mention—that triggers my memory when I read over entries later. The whole day can come rushing back to me. The little details become precious.

So much disappears. So many things burn behind us like ships. We know that everything will be lost, even things that felt like they would last forever.

But every day is a chance to appreciate the things around us…and even more, the people around us. And every day, no matter what, we are building something new.

 

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