During a trip with Maman, while we were in Nice, I met an old woman at the Sunday market.

I’m sure she wasn’t nearly as old as I thought she was 10 years ago — my perspective on age ever continues to shift — but she seemed ancient enough.

She sold the most beautiful flowers that she grew in her backyard, high up on a hillside. I’ve always wondered about that hillside … where it is, the heart stopping view of the Cote d’Azur one must see from it. I picture it in the middle of nowhere, though I know that surely cannot be the case with the use of limited space. Who doesn’t enjoy the idea of secluded areas?

She asked me how long I was in France for and picked up the quivering change in my voice as I said we were getting ready to leave.

Courage, ma chérie, bon courage.

An expression of encouragement when faced with a difficult or unpleasant situation … bearing life’s struggles with strength and faith. A, hang in there, chin up attitude.

I’ve thought of her words many times. And how she never possibly could have known how much I would need to call upon them throughout my life. And funny it’s her voice that I hear in my head every time I leave France.

This is a courage kind of day.

Keeping faith and staying strong, particularly because I don’t want to. Quite frankly, I don’t want to do much of anything. But courage … I can do that. It requires minimum movement and a change in thought ever so slightly to the more positive.

That, I can do, too. I think.