Ultimately, our visit ended, and we took trans-oceanic flight once more. I seem to recall that we went on a big Boeing 747, and that Ricky enjoyed charming our fellow passengers on two physical levels of the plane, and on who knows how many levels of other kinds. Valerie thinks the big planes came later; she’s probably right. But Rick did chatter and charm.
Back in Paris, the folks settled down to the energetic demands and delights of their final six months together in this life, all unaware, of course, that that was the case. When we publish Mammy’s journal, with Pappy’s post-accident addenda, they will provide some details of their travels and travails, with the accompanying blessings and distresses. We have hundreds of slides in which Pappy recorded those months; we’ll save them to illustrate their journal text.