This morning I took Bernie to the airport for a journey to France without me. I feel a bit like a lost puppy as we’ve traveled there together for the last 15 years. He will be attending the funeral of his cousin, Jean-Paul Weiss in Alsace near the German border. He passed away yesterday. The death was expected but never easy when the news is finally received. His was a life well-lived.
We have so many dear memories over the years. One of the most poignant for me was the very first time I met Jean-Paul and his wife Marie Josée. It was July of 2007, I believe, one of the coldest Julys on record. We were visiting for about a week partly in their home and partly in their chalet on the ski slopes of Switzerland. I had only open-toed sandals which were not going to do in the cool temps of Alsace and the even colder temps in the Swiss Alps. Jean-Paul put me in his car and took me to the weekly open-air market in the center of town where you can buy everything from avocados to umbrellas. He took me over to the shoes, and I found a pair of closed-toe black lace-ups for 12 euros. I wore those shoes for ten years after that and called them my rainy day Paris “must-have’s.”
Jean-Paul was a very successful entrepreneur owning a thriving business selling kitchen equipment. He was also a hunter, a snow-skier, a traveler, a wine connoisseur, and even an author. He spoke perfect French which he uttered in a staccato monotone. He was a wonderful father and husband and will be remembered as a force in everyone’s lives.
Safe travels to Bernie as he celebrates the life of Jean-Paul.