Tuesday, May 18, 2010


Many days, I miss my little Olean. Mon petit poisson.

After I graduated, instead of going off to college, I went to Switzerland to become the nanny for this little girl and her brother, Alex.

Hours were spent together and I really did love that little girl.

I had to leave suddenly. I told her I would stay for a year. I told her we would celebrate her birthday together.

How do you explain visas and being illegal to a six year old? How could I explain to her that the reason I had to leave was because the government of Switzerland didn't want me there and if I stayed more than three months, there could be some serious consequences?

I wonder what she remembers of me? Does she think back far enough to afternoons in the grass, throwing a ball around. Does she remember skipping down the road together singing "Jingle Bells" in French or listening to "Bad Day" when she came home seeming a bit blue?

Does she understand how much it would hurt me to see her in pain, some days, when I couldn't make her feel better because of the language barrier? I would just want to make it all better but I couldn't. All I could ask was, "Ça va?" like a blimmin' idiot.

Does she remember races to the door? Chocolat chaud? Grilled cheese sandwhiches?

What I wouldn't give to go lay in the grass with her for an afternoon, hunting for rainbows or playing with bugs.

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