The City of Lights

I was fourteen the first time I visited Paris. My father took me there for a week as an early birthday present. My first snapshot memory of France came shortly after the eight plus hour flight. We were in a taxi on our way to our hotel and I saw the Arch of Triumph. I asked my dad to stop. We got out of the taxi and took a couple of token Parisian pictures. Out of those pictures there is one in particular that I love. It is of me my father and I hugging. In the backdrop of the picture the Arch of Triumph looms over us telling me that Paris is special.

I grew up in two homes. My parents divorced when I was seven years old. The divorce was hard on me even though my parents tried as hard as they could to shelter me from the effects. As a result I grew distant from my dad. He became the person I was forced to visit on weekends.

I was never really able to relate to my dad. At the time I thought he was very different from me. He considered taking me to Republican political rallies bonding time. I considered going to Eckerd’s pharmacy to buy me Lisa Frank stickers bonding time. I always thought that my mom was the one who understood me and that my dad just couldn't

I had no idea what to expect from this trip to France. I was just excited to go to another country. After we arrived at our hotel located away from the city center we got straight to sightseeing. In order to save money we rode the subway. I was able to figure it out faster than my dad thus I was given the responsibility of getting us to the sights via the underground labyrinth. This small but significant task helped me feel less like a kid and more like an adult. It showed me that I was a valuable asset to my father. It was good to have a responsibility, to feel needed.

As the week on, went to the Louvre and strolled down its many passages . Then we went to Versailles and walked through its many picturesque gardens. We walked up and down famous tree lined avenue Champs-Élysées . We walked along the Seine observing the different architecture found in the bridges. We took more token pictures in front of the Eiffel Tower. I took in everything I was seeing, sometimes with my memory and other times with my camera. We did all of this with no exact schedule.

Amidst taking in all the splendor that Paris was offering me, my dad and I spoke. He shared with me the vast knowledge he gained from his readings and various trips to Paris. I listened. I asked questions. I began to slowly realize that my dad and I did have things in common. We had Paris in common.

After our trip to Paris my relationship with my father changed. I began to enjoy being around him. He now could relate to me better than he ever had. Our trip to Paris brought us closer. It helped redeem a tarnished relationship. Paris showed us that we were more alike than we ever thought possible. Paris is special and not simply because of its magnificent treasures but because for the first time in fourteen years a father and daughter were able to connect.