I'm still around!!

Dear Journal:
I have not been writing for a long time, I have been so busy, one day I am home, the next in Quincy Market,Mass., Martha's Vineyard again, in the city for some jazz concert for some other new friends....Any ways I have been feeling a little nostalgic about my trip to France so here is the rest of that part.....
That Sunday we went to a small cafe I wanted to eat Cromadame-I think that's how you spell it-anyways is delicious, it resembles a french toast but not sweet is actually cruncy, 3 layers of toasted bread, ham, cheese and a egg in the top----delicious, loaded with calories of course, but calories on vacation don't count!!  But the cafe did not had anymore so I had to eat something else-not as good.  Life happens at a slower pace here.  People take the time to greet everybody-Bonjour madam is very upbeat.  I wanted to buy some flowers for my host.  She had been so wonderful, and I tought some flowers will cheer her up.  I walked, by myself, Alonso was lost in the small pond of old friends and their kids, the narrow streets are very romantic.  I was surprised I ended up again in Point the View. Seen the French Alps in the distance covered by the blue mist is peaceful....I can pinch myself....I can't believe I am here.
I finally get to the flower shop, debated between fresh lilies or a nice african violet plant.  The flower shop lady did not spoke any english so not understanding the price of the lilies opted for the afican violet plant instead.  It was lovely, and I tought it will last longer anyways.  Came back to my room and left the plant in the center of her table-which my host had in the terrace.
Met with Alonso who explains me that his former father and mother in law are coming tonight for the concert.  He also tells me that it was JeanPierre-his former father in law-who tought him about tango and they use to spend nights listening to Piazzola.  Alonso tells me that as a closure the tango Milonga de Angel that he has been practicing with the band, he will dedicated to Hannah's memory-his late wife.I know-beautiful-
Me?  I panicked!!!  Hannah's parents???? They are wealthy french people!!!!!They are Hannah's parents!!!!!OMG!!!!!!I have not felt more panicked since......well never.
I try to decide what to wear....in the process I brake one dress, the next one is too revealing and the last one is a little short but had to do.  Alonso keeps reassuring me it will be fine, that they just regular people...me I am not convinced...and the tought is very nice....but really why??? I am a little ashamed of myself.
I get to the plaza and my friends Ellen and Martha saved a seat for me.  I told them my predicament and Sally ask me:  "But what happened if they don't love you"?  "Love me?  I will be fine if they pretend to remotely like me"  Ellen assures me they will and before I know it, Hannah's parent get to the plaza and Alonso is introducing me to them.   They seem nice people.  They greeted me nicely and Bernadette, Hannah's mom, introduced me to her best friend, who she describe as her sister, but not real sister, just her best friend, I tell her those are the best kind of friends-and she smiles sincerly,  I went back to my group of friends who welcome me back with hugs and small cheering.
And about a half hour later,  Alonso was in front of the band, dedicating this tango to the memory of Hannah his late wife, his children and her parents....there was something so beautiful about this tango,  Milonga de Angel, is just emotional full of energy and the band did a great job.  I look around, my friends are crying, I look to the audience, woman are crying and several men also.  It was that beautiful.   Martha's taps me in my shoulder: "you know my Marty is also a widower, sometimes is hard to live in their spouses shadow"  I have to admit that it has not been that hard for me, it just that Hannah and I are so different, she was a painter, an acomplish one, french, spoke several languages well...I am so far from that...To which Martha responded:  "Marty's late wife was a belly dancer!!! I dance anything...but badly"  and we started laughing, wiping our tears.
I look over to Jean Pierre and Bernadette, they were both crying. I never met Hannah, but I could swear  somewhere in that little village of St. Cezare, I felt her.  And she was pleased to be remembered.