Provence Forever

1

The state of suffering

Now I am alone again in my paradise, the windows of my study are wide open, the impressive view of this unique landscape that cannot be described with words gives me comfort and strength to accept my fate.

A hot summer day is coming to an end, the concert of song cicadas accompanied by croaking frogs is beginning, the moon has risen on the horizon of the Lubéron, illuminating under a starry sky the contrasting hills and plateau of the Vaucluse.

An eerie restlessness that accompanies my sleep that night makes me open my eyes. The light and the morning sun of Provence take me back to the past. My thoughts circle around the last seven years with Michéle.

Michèle is not here, the last telephone conversation from two days ago is infinitely long ago. The idea of living this day without Michèle paralyzes me. A look out of the window of our bedroom, behind which the paradise of Provence stretches, brings sleep back to me; I see Michèle escaping from our paradise as a white seagull and, carried by the stormy mistral, disappearing on the horizon of the Lubéron. With all my strength I resist letting go, but Michèle's forces, supported by the violent mistral, leave me no chance to hold her. My arm is torn away, my life dissolves, I crumble to ashes.

The diabolical cries of my two beloved grandchildren, who have been with me for a few days, accompanied by my daughter, end this dream. Bathed in sweat and in total exhaustion, I begin this day. Three more days I have to endure them, these children who strain our beautiful house lovingly decorated by Michèle. This paradise suffers terrible tortures, all furnishings are already marked. These over-excited monster children scare flowers, meadows, fields, and disturb the perfect tranquility of Provençal nature. I realized that these people from the northern industrialized countries are unfortunately forced to live in a world of horror, because they live and dwell in concrete, have to breathe polluted air and work like ants, so that they can afford their ant dwellings and their so-called quality of life. These over-excited, still young people, accompanied by their parents, visit the peace and perfect tranquility of Provence for a few weeks every summer to find the balance that the locals have as a result of the scenic beauty all year round.

In the immediate vicinity of our house is the small schoolhouse of our village, there I noticed that the children from Provence are influenced by the beauty of this land and are therefore perfectly balanced.

Despite everything, I try to tackle today. My grandchildren, because of some harmless and peaceful bees, have moved their planned breakfast from the forecourt, which is under our bedroom and overlooks the vastness and beauty of Provence, to the inside of our house. In the meantime, since my grandchildren are burdened with additional stomach aches from the Provençal food prepared with the very finest Provençal herbs mixed with garlic and olive oil and have to suffer a sunburn on their sterile snow skins, I will soon have the opportunity to enjoy my breakfast alone, in peace and quiet, on my beloved forecourt in the garden.

While I ponder my thoughts, another hour has passed and in the meantime my daughter has made herself comfortable at the swimming pool with her two pests, who nevertheless mean a lot to me in my life. Now the time has come for me to take my breakfast undisturbed. Fortunately, I am protected from the chatter and the shouting by plants, trees and bushes. Still, I wouldn't be surprised if my flowers, plants, and bushes didn't survive this stress until my visitor's departure. Now I sit in our garden, with my thoughts all alone and silent with Michèle, who means everything in this world to me. Nothing is more important than Michèle, I am in a total dependence as a result of this love, like a drug addict in his very last stage of life, shortly before death. My former life was only life; I never thought of death, thought of myself as immortal. I could never have imagined becoming an old person, never having no more friends.

I believed that I could always live a life according to my ideas, without regard for my fellow human beings. I felt strong, tears or other feelings that moved my inner self were completely foreign to me. I was me, only I determined my life, another environment did not interest me. Money, power, success and a pathological craving for recognition determined my feelings.

For thirty years I did not realize how precious life was with my former family. Today, my life is an unbearable torment that I would like to end; the best thing would be for me to be struck by the redemptive blow right away, because waking up in the morning, every day anew, is a real hell and the whole world is a vale of tears. If I were not such a coward, I would commit suicide so that I would finally be released from this life on the abyss.

Michèle has been absent for almost a month; for me, that's years. I have to be patient for four more days, then Michèle will be here again. She is currently staying for a month with a so-called friend from high society who owns an estate in Portugal and is served by many servants, valets and maids. This old, deceitful and calculating witch, who comes from very humble origins and only came to a great fortune by marrying a big industrialist, feasts on harassing her employees daily in the most brutal way.

Her financial power allows her to bully, humiliate and insult those around her. In addition, this person is trying to get Michèle to end our relationship. I will never be able to understand that Michèle wastes a month of her life to spend thirty days and nights with this Satanic woman. There must be some calculation behind this, namely that the stingy old woman will include my Michèle in her will and leave her some of her million-dollar fortune after her demise.

Nothing in this world loves Michèle more than money; money and financial security mean complete freedom and independence for her. For this love, I gave up my former life after thirty years of marriage and squandered my company, which guaranteed me an above-average income, for a few hundred thousand francs. I have spent this money in the past years to maintain this love. Today I have nothing left and I am forced to build a new existence, because apart from my great love I can no longer offer Michèle much. I am looking for possibilities to dispose of anything else; yes, I would also be ready at once to offer a part of my liver, my kidney or whatever else for little money. Fourteen beautiful days that I can spend with Michèle are life for me. I do not think then also about the fact that in fourteen days everything is over.

On the fifteenth day, however, hell begins anew; it gets worse and worse and I no longer know how everything is supposed to go on. I no longer buy food, but play the lottery with the last of my money, hoping each time for a win, which however - how could it be otherwise - always fails to materialize. But the thought of and the hope for a beautiful life with Michèle are worth my last money. I go to church and pray to God that He will let me live happily and in peace with Michèle. Otherwise, I want nothing more for myself; the only thing I want is Michèle.

My airplanes of yesteryear, Jaguars and Porsches, and the finest motorboats are no longer important. I can remember hawking even the last of my luxuries, my gold Rolex watch, for this love. I am developing superhuman strength to keep this love alive; there is nothing I do not undertake to make money again. I sell various industrial goods and would like to successfully sell the products I have developed in the meantime as well. My financial means are exhausted at present, therefore I ask each friend or acquaintance for a loan, these so-called friends I helped in former times without large, "if and but" in their need and gave accordingly loans, however I do not get loans from these questionable "friends" myself. Nevertheless, this project must succeed. If there is no way today, a way will certainly come tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, it simply must be so, another possibility is excluded.

I always ask myself for what reason I have to endure such a life, why it is not possible for me to live a life like that of many of my friends, without great excitement, modest and with a harmonious family that means a lot to me in my daily existence.

Michèle is not there, but this house is there.

Michèle, her human being is not visible and yet she is here, her eyes are the light of Provence, her soul, her smell, her breath will always remain in this house.

Wherever I go in the Lubéron on my long walks, I am never alone, Michèle, the sunflower of Provence, is in my heart. And should my wish not come true to spend my last years in the Lubéron, I am at least left with the certainty that after my death my final resting place will be here; never will I be forced to leave again the land in the Garden of Eden of Provence that gives me eternal peace, and the mistral will carry my ashes to my beloved villages, valleys, fields and forests.

2

Arrival in the Lubéron

I have resumed a business activity. I sell special products, olive oils, lavender honey, spice and herb blends, lavender prodcts, and cosmetic products of all kinds from Provence to a former friend and owner of a large drugstore chain in Switzerland. My suppliers are smaller family businesses and producers from the Lubéron. These people, whom I have visited in the villages and markets for quite some time now, have become friends. Buying their produce is always a new experience and takes hours, with private family dinners in the producer's home. Provençal cuisine in the Lubéron consists of simple dishes with colorful vegetables, meat, olive oil and lots of herbs.

Parc Naturel: Vaucluse, Lubéron, Provence

They are an experience every time, even the stews are godsends. My biggest supplier is a lavender farmer in Sault, every year I buy the best quality dried lavender flowers from his lavender fields. The festivities that follow last two days and are a special event, after this harvest festival I need a rest for several days.

After the final separation from my great love Michelé and being alone for more than two years, I have finally found a way to organize my thoughts and in the meantime I have worked out an existence again. With my today's business activity I do not earn any more amounts of millions, I can finance however with the sales and export of my Provence products my in the meantime again somewhat increased life expenditure. As a result of my final move to France, I have received from my pension fund, on balance of all claims, several hundred thousand Swiss francs, therefore I had enough equity capital, so that I can now run my business successfully without bank loans. The volume of incoming orders is quite considerable, I have therefore again founded a company, my business premises office and warehouse in Avignon are extremely modest, moreover, I have hired an additional employee to handle the daily orders and send them to my export customers. Never again I would like to work full time myself, my additional administrative office work in Avignon claims at most fifty percent activity, the rest of the time I would like to spend meaningfully in Provence and especially in the Lubéron Nature Park.

My ashes have still not been blown by the mistral to my beloved villages within the last two years that I have now spent in Provence. I am still alive. These villages and the fascinating landscape in the Lubéron have changed my human nature as a result of my long walks and encounters with the Provençal people.

My former life with my idea of success as power, financial wealth and luxury possessions of all kinds as well as social admiration mean nothing to me anymore. My small Provencal house in Lacoste is paradise in the natural park in the heart of Provence. There is nothing more in this world that I would want in addition, here I have found my happiness and complete satisfaction. I have learned to live with nature, to live here is the perfect fulfillment, every day is marked by a new experience, the corresponding seasons are always fascinating. The freedom, pine scent, red wine under plane trees, and long summer nights are like the fairy tale of a thousand and one nights. Spring often begins early in the year and brings numerous flowers everywhere in the Lubéron, the fruit and almond trees bloom, as well as many wildflowers.

Summer is also the time of lavender flowering. The flowering period of lavender in Provence begins, depending on the region, from mid to late June, but in some locations only in July. It then lasts until August, or sometimes a few flowers can still be found until the beginning of September. In autumn the vines turn colorful after the grape harvest. In winter comes the Mistral, a cold wind from the north blows sometimes for days at high speeds of up to 120 km / h, but then also provides a bright blue sky.

Spring bloom in the Lubéron, almond tree, gorse

During this time I do the necessary renovation work on my house and in the evening I enjoy the fireplace and the smell of my freshly split vines and look forward to dinner accompanied by Provençal wines. Where the sun pampers the landscape, top wines also thrive. The focus of viticulture in the Lubéron is on light rosé wines, followed by red and white wines. With this fascination of pine scents, red wine under plane trees, long summer nights and ever changing seasons, I have never spent a day in solitude.

I always look forward to the visit of my family members and grandchildren who spend their vacations with me in Provence. Nevertheless we spend these days with much joy, laughter and satisfaction as well as visits to small villages and in addition Avignon, Arles, Nimes, Aix en Provence and weekly markets, the respective parting is again a relief, the aperitives as well as the boule games with the Provençal friends in my village café are now possible without time limits.

My hikes through the cedar and oak forests of the Lubéron combined with visits to the beautiful mountain villages in the impressive nature in a varied cultural landscape are now the complete fulfillment in my life.

The thoughts of my great love, of Michelé are still present, never can I, even after this long time of our final separation, remove this love happiness from my thoughts, time heals wounds and other perspectives determine the further life, nevertheless there are still days in deep mourning that I have to spend with an immense pain and longing for Michele.

Entrances decorated with flowers in Provence

3

Foundation stone

The foundation stone for my present chaotic life was certainly laid by my parents in complete ignorance. As the only son (born in 1935), I grew up with two sisters in a highly respected family of factory owners.

My youth was paradise on earth; everything I ever wished for has come to pass, all problems and minor difficulties have been sorted out immediately. I was never held responsible for any failure. My father – unlike me – was fundamentally honest; his supreme laws were moral and ethical principles. In spite of a large villa on a respectable property with a park and a small forest, where my sisters and I were allowed to spend our beautiful youthful years, my father always remained extremely modest, although on the other hand he was also a person of respect, who also enjoyed great popularity among all friends, acquaintances and neighbors. Unfortunately, my father always tried to protect me so as not to endanger the reputation of his family. I never received a beating or any other punishment for any of my youthful pranks, except for one time when, out of convenience, I instructed my childhood friend to look for worms in our garden for my father, who was a passionate fisherman; the slap I received for this still hurts me today.

In addition, I was no longer allowed to move cars on our private property, although I had learned to drive at the age of ten, accompanied by my father, on the dirt roads along his thirty-kilometer trout stream. In fact, these lessons had also led me, on appropriate occasions and in the absence of my parents, to use one of the cars that were always ready to drive in our factory to make excursions at breathtaking speed through our residential area and the surrounding countryside. On several occasions I met the village policeman, who was riding his motorcycle from one locality to the next to quench his enormous thirst.

My father, who was a sociable man and therefore indulged in his beloved card game several times a week in our village, also met the policeman on these occasions. Although he had told him each time about my forbidden excursions, he never had the courage to file criminal charges against me or my family; if only because my father usually paid his not inconsiderable wine bills when he visited the inn. So the policeman had every reason to resign himself to the situation.

This carefree life without responsibility and consequences has shaped my character accordingly. I am in and of myself an intelligent and clever being who is always concerned about his advantage. Conversely, however, I have not learned to take responsibility myself for mistakes I have made, because the consequences of my mistakes have always been borne by my parents. When my school teacher, who was a friend of the family, wanted me to repeat the third grade of elementary school, my family had no understanding for this request of my teacher; of course, I then attended the fourth grade of elementary school. However, this resulted in big problems at school. But since my family could not accept that their son repeated an elementary school grade, I was placed in a private boarding school that had much of a four-star hotel. In this school I completed two school years without repeating a grade and then rejoined the sixth grade of the elementary school in my home community. Of course, after a short time it turned out that my qualifications for high school were not sufficient, so I was again placed in a private boarding school. In this way, to the great delight of my parents, I was able to complete both elementary and high school without disgrace and without repeating a grade.

After school, although I had expressed my exclusive interest in automotive and aircraft engineering, I had to complete a practical apprenticeship with additional commercial training in my father's food company. During those years of my apprenticeship, however, I spent every free minute in the car garage of a friend of my parents or, as a result of my enthusiasm for flying, at various airfields.

Although I knew every component of a car and had extensive knowledge of aircraft technology, to the great delight of my parents I successfully completed my training and also received the MG sports car promised to me immediately afterwards. Since I no longer had to work daily in our manufacturing plant, I was allowed to visit our customers on my own, after a lengthy introductory period by our sales department. Despite my great sales success, I was not paid the commissions I had been promised, on the grounds that our factory would be transferred to me in a few years. Although I had enough pocket money to live well and everything else was paid, after that my ambition to be a successful salesman dwindled noticeably.

Since I was never enthusiastic about my father's company, I had decided to learn to fly without my parents' knowledge. How I was ever going to finance this endeavor was completely indifferent to me. In fact, my father later paid the corresponding bills, which of course I could not pay, with an unimaginable fury. In a short time, I was able to successfully complete the first stage of my pilot training. When my father then also told me in no uncertain terms that my future workplace had to be in his company and that he was no longer willing to pay even one franc for my flying, I decided never to work in his company.