Oysters

Hi Dad,

I'm sorry I've been so quiet lately. The truth is, Idriss and I went on vacation, to France and Morocco. We got to see his whole family, including our nephews and niece, who are getting so big, and are just lovely people.

We also escaped, just the two of us, to the South of France for a few nights. We stayed in Avignon, which was just gorgeous. So elegant and chic, so French, but with kind and friendly people, and so low key. It was the first time we've had a trip together in a long time.

In Avignon, there is a large food market called Les Halles. In that market, there is an oyster place. Here is something I didn't know before Dad, and maybe you didn't either: the French eat oysters in the morning. How do I know this? Well, for starters, Les Halles closes at 1pm. And, when we went for breakfast, there were lots of people eating oysters. And drinking wine, I might add.

I am not sure if it's been documented on here Dad, but you were an oyster man. Frankly, you were a seafood man. Clams, mussels, oysters, bouillabaisse, roasted whole fish, swordfish steaks, flounder filets...you name it, you loved it.

In fact, one of the happiest memories I have of you is from my wedding (first one - ahem). We had a raw bar. And after the ceremony and pictures and lots of socializing, you made up a gigantic plate of tidbits from the raw bar outside, carried it into the restaurant, sat at the bar, ordered a martini, and savored your favorite things all together at that moment. I have a picture of you looking happy as a clam (couldn't resist).

So, Dad, maybe you should have been born French. Then you would have had more oysters your whole life. But I hope you had enough.

I miss you Dad. Love you so much.
M

p.s. I took this little video of church bells ringing in Avignon. So graceful sounding. I know you would have liked them.