The art of aging gracefully | Paris, France

I arrived in Paris on my mom’s birthday – a pretty fitting coincidence, considering she was the reason for my first visit to the city (and my first time traveling abroad) 27 years ago, when I was four and she was roughly the same age as I am now. To this day, in spite of having traveled and lived all over the place, my mom considers Paris to be the most beautiful, exciting and, well, simply the best city in the world. She knows it like the back of her hand.* I have my own mixed emotions about it, but I can’t deny that Paris seems to have mastered the art of aging gracefully (as have its women, according to this article).

So has my mom, but that’s beside the point. The point is that to me, she continues to be an endless source of inspiration, knowledge and talent, a provider of unconditional love and unwavering support, and the kind of person I hope to become as I grow older.

So, with this post, I want to wish my wonderful, graceful and inspiring mother a happy birthday. And I’ll say it again: I am lucky to have her.

*While I was in Paris, I complained to my mom over the phone that I needed to get some place, but it was too cold to walk and I didn’t feel like going down into the crowded, smelly and confusing metro. She asked where I was staying and, off the top of her head, told me exactly what bus would take me from there directly to the place I was trying to reach.

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