Margot

Margot was a very interesting person to me when I was growing up. I don't remember exactly when my parents met her and her husband, but they were the friends that took my brother and I to London and Paris. She and her husband lives in a huge mansion that sat like a castle atop a hill overlooking a huge garden. We often went to their house, for brunch and dinner, and the place was a delight to explore, as it had secret passage ways and was full of exotic trophies from Africa and Asia. The house seemed like a fun labyrinth to me, and it smelled exotic too, of lilacs mixed with sandalwood or Moroccan musk perfume.Margot was Walloon, and everyone always spoke French at her estate, even though her husband was Flemish and so were we. She dressed extravagantly, in dresses and jewelry bought during her extended weekends in New York, a city she adored. She cooked extravagantly too, there were times I was not sure what it was we were eating, but it always tasted good, so I thought it was always exciting to eat at her house. She liked me, and I enjoyed her taking me seriously in conversations, she was a boost to my self esteem. Languages always came easy to me, so I was quite competent entertaining a conversation in good French, even at only age twelve. She was a big lady, and very gracious and sensual, and very attractive, in personality and looks. I remember many years later, when my husband Michael and I went to Belgium after we finished our master degrees from the University of Texas in Austin, and we took a train to Paris, you could at one point see Margot and Jeff's huge mansion from the train. It still was there, imposing, proud, still on its hill. I wandered what happened to her and her husband. If they are still alive they must be well into their eighties. With all the chaos of my parent's marriage falling apart, I lost track of them. I wander if she realizes what an impact she had on my desire to travel, and how much I always enjoyed her house, her company and conversations, and how grateful I remain for the wondrous experiences at a young age in London and Paris.