A Montmarte Memory

Memory is a funny thing. Depending on where you are in life, it can be your personalmedicine or your worst enemy. This piece is a look at one of mine—sounds and places in andaround my grandmother’s apartment in France. One is Sacré-Cœur, the Sacred Heart Basilica ofthe Montmartre neighborhood. For those who grew up with European immigrant parents, thispiece speaks about the bittersweet feelings we might have towards our childhood experiences.How they can come back to us without warning. Without pause or reason, like sometimes wemight want. You never know what sounds or sights may take you back to a previous chapter intime. They’re a part of who we are, and the journey it took to go forward.