..and so I found myself in a little apartment in an area called Stalingrad in arrondisement 19- alone listening to a French radio station. I'm not overly religious but I am a catholic- Paris is full of cathedrals and cemeteries. I was close to Monte Matre and the Sacre Coer so that's what I did. I went to mass at Sacre Coer, had communion and lit candles and then did the same at Notre Dame- familiar and comforting. I went to confession at Notre Dame where a New York priest talked me through the concept of grace, keeping a sense of humour and then he held my hand through more tears. My twitter feed was full of stone angels, religious scripts and candles...and more candles- it helped ground me. I also met with a friends niece who gave me a grand tour of central Paris and the metro and a neighbor's brother who took me out to eat near the canal St Martin.
I bought a vintage French book at the market the stretches along the river by Notre-Dame-my French is crap but I saw the word Grace..and you know- had to.