by Patricia Elaine Francis Good

No matter what it cost, why or when you wore it, every woman has a dress that has mattered more to her than any other piece of clothing she’s ever worn.  For most women, that is her wedding dress.  Filled with happy memories of one day that seems to hold more importance than any other, this wedding necessity seems to hold those precious memories long after the day has passed into a lifetime.

But for me, the dress that holds the most meaning, is the dress I worn in Paris on my 32nd birthday.  It all started ten years before when I was diagnosed with melanoma cancer and given 6 months to live.  The option of chemotherapy with all the unwanted side effects was the only treatment available. I asked if this would save my life. The answer was “No”. It will only prolong it. But to the doctors’ surprise, my choice was to refuse treatment, save my hair and look for other options.  The only other option for me, at the time, was a hospice in London, England where I would be allowed to die with dignity.  But, that option was not possible for my working family to be with me. So, that didn’t seem to be a viable alternative.

So, I lived my life one day at a time. And every day that I got up and checked for lumps and didn’t find any, I believed that day was a gift given to me because God wasn’t through with me. During this time I found my purpose in life and followed it.  I became a fundraising professional for non profit organizations.  I helped many people this way and was deeply grateful for the opportunity to serve.  As the years passed and I got more confident that maybe I would live longer than the doctors anticipated, I set a goal for myself.  If I lived to see my 32nd birthday, I would go to Paris, France to celebrate.  I started saving money for the trip.

I booked a little French hotel off the Avenue des Champs-Elysees. With no reoccurrence of the cancer, the 10 years since my diagnosis finally passed. I had saved enough money to make arrangements for my trip to Paris. 

On the way, I stopped in England to see family & friends. While in London, I bought the perfect dress from Harrods Department Store. It was a two piece, sleeveless, silk taffeta chartreuse gown.  When I came out of the dressing room, I felt like a Princess!  Even though I spent more money than I should, the dress was perfect for my celebratory trip. 

I was the house guest of friends of my parents, English Captain Donovan & Vivian Flood, who had a 99 year lease on the Pepys House in Brampton, in the county of Cambridgeshire, England.  The house owes its name to its association with Samuel Pepys, the diarist (1633-1703) who wrote extensively about the Great Plague of London & the Great Fire of London. The house was built in the early 1600s.

Mrs. Flood tended a spectacular garden and orchard and was an excellent cook. 

We would play croquet on the beautiful grounds of Pepys House, drinking gin and tonics, and then we would pick fresh flowers, vegetables and fruit that Mrs. Flood would whip up into a delicious dinner. Often, there were international guests around the dinner table and the conversations were stimulating and thoughtful.  After dinner, the men would retire to the study for cigars & bourdon, and the ladies & I would retreat to the parlour for a glass of port wine.  Even though I based out of the Pepys House while in Europe, I made several excursions to Ireland, Wales, Scotland and then, for my long awaited trip, to Paris. 

I flew from London to Paris and took a cab to my hotel.  The hotel was small but elegant.  A few days before my birthday, I asked the hotel staff if they would book me on the Bateaux-Mouches River Dinner Cruise.  At first, they would not take my reservation, but after the hotel staff explained that I was all alone in Paris for my birthday, they must have felt sorry for me, (that poor American girl), and agreed to have me dine with them on that beautiful, sleek boat, as I had planned for years.

On the night of my 32nd birthday, I dressed carefully in my gorgeous dress, fixed my hair up and put on pearl earrings and finishing the look with pretty high heels.  I called home to talk to my family since there were also three other family members who celebrated August 22nd as their birthday … my mother, brother Mike and sister Pam.

There was a knock at my door, and I realized that I had ordered a taxi and they were letting me know the driver was waiting downstairs.  I got off the phone as quick as I could, and gathered myself up for my big evening in Paris.  I remember thinking that as I floated down the big, winding red velvet staircase and into the streets of Paris, my dream was coming true. 

The taxi took me to the dock where the boat was anchored.  As I stepped out of the taxi, the Maître d’ from the Bateaux-Mouches met me and escorted me onto the boat.  As we passed by tables, I heard several languages being spoken.  Just as I was sure I would soon be sitting with these interesting people, the Maître d’ stopped at a table, facing a harp player, in the middle of the boat.  The little table was set for one. I suppose if you are in Paris and you make a reservation for one, they are inclined to belive you want to dine alone. Silly me! 

Nothing was going to stop me from celebrating this moment … my magical 32nd birthday … alone or not … I was going to enjoy it! As the music played and the boat began its evening cruise, I found it amusing that people were coming over to my table and taking photographs of me.  I decided to be a “woman of mystery” and played along as if I were someone famous (Certainly by all indications, I was being treated that way by the Maître d’ and my fellow passengers.) So, why not?

After a while, a full moon appeared in the dark sky and the first course was served with its own bottle of wine.  I ate & drank with great relish!  Afterall, here I was in Paris, France celebrating my birthday! I had lived 10 years past the doctors’ prognosis. I wasn’t going to miss a thing.  Several courses later as we passed by Notre–Dame Cathedral, the bells in the towers rang, and I saw the waiters coming up on the deck with a birthday cake with candles all aglow.  I thought to myself, wherever they take that cake and champagne, I will pretend its for me.  People were singing Happy Birthday in many languages and I was having the time of my life!  The waiters got closer and closer. Then, they stopped at my little table and placed the cake in front of me.  I couldn’t believe it!  One gentleman from each table on board came over to kiss my hand and wish me well in whatever language they spoke.  And I, Princess Patricia (for one night in Paris) asked that the waiter fill everyone’s glass with champagne and give a slice of cake to one and all.  This was my night!  More photographs and kisses and champagne! Everyone on the boat was celebrating with me … treating me like the “Woman of Mystery” that I was!  Undoubtedly, they thought I was a famous celebrity … but in reality – I was just a little Texas girl, happy to just be alive and in Paris!

At midnight, and after several glasses of wine and champagne, the boat once again docked.  The Maître d’ appeared again at my table.  Thank God he was there to take me on his arm and escort me off the boat.  I was having a little trouble walking in those darn high heels.  He kissed me on both checks and wished me a happy birthday and left me on the dock, in that foggy Paris night.  After a while, I realized I was standing there all alone.  A waiter from the boat came down and gestured that I needed to walk in the streets of Paris to find a taxi, since it was too late to call one.

I took off my heels, draped my skirt over one arm, and in the other hand I carried my purse, a piece of cake and a photo they had taken of me on the boat. Off I went, happy to be walking barefoot down the streets of Paris at midnight on my birthday!  Along came a taxi driver who was kind enough to stop.  I managed to get in.  He wanted to know where to.  I could not remember the name of my French Hotel so he asked me to point to a map of where I thought it was. Sure enough, he found my hotel. 

As I was getting money out of my purse, I thought wouldn’t it be nice if he would kiss me goodnight … so I asked him. He took me in his arms and bent me over the back of the cab for a kiss that I thought was never going to end!(Be careful about asking a French man to kiss you … They really mean business when they do!) I finally came up for air. He wanted to come up to my room! I started throwing money at him and telling him “Non, non monsieur!!!”  Fortunately, he took “Non” for my final answer and left.

As I entered the small but elegant foyer of my French hotel, the staircase seemed daunting to this tipsy Texas girl.  With that, I crawled up the staircase, certainly not the vision of loveliness that I was on that same staircase hours before! I was hoping nobody was watching!!

When I got to my room, the iron key just wouldn’t go into the key hole! Wonder why? I don’t think I could sufficiently aim it well. After several attempts, the door to the suite next to mine opened.  A woman with a black headdress walked over to me, took the key, opened my door, handed the key back to me and left…all without one word. I did, however, manage to say “thanks” but, I don’t think she heard me.

Back in my room, I fell into bed…in my dress, with cake, heels and photo in hand. 

In the morning, I woke up with a cathedral size headache.  As I rose up in bed, I could see myself in the mirror directly across the room. Not a pretty sight.  I saw that I had one earring on. I wondered where I lost the other earring and when?  Had I gone all evening as Princess Patricia, Woman of Mystery, with one earring?  I glanced over at the nightstand where the telephone sat.  And, there it was … I had taken off the missing earring to talk to my family on the phone before I left to meet the taxi driver downstairs.

My friends back home in the States, after hearing about my 32nd birthday in Paris, KID ME TO THIS DAY that wearing one earring became all the rage in Paris after that night.  Well, enough people took photos of me with one earring to know that’s where it all began.  Although, to be honest, I have never seen a French woman wearing one earring … EVER! 

So that’s my favorite “DRESS” story.  And yes, I still have the dress, but I’ve given up wearing just one earring … ’cause this Texas girl only does that once in Paris, France!

            This is THE DRESS  … photos taken shortly after the Paris trip.

Follow Up to this Story:  When I returned to Texas, I gave the Paris photo to my father. I asked him to hold onto it until I married.  I was sure that I would be 80 years old and I wanted my betrothed to know what I looked like in my prime! 

Five years later on my wedding day to Skip Good, my father handed over the photo. 

I didn’t think much about that photo until this past year after my husband died.  My grief counselor, Jane Marie suggested I find a photo of myself that I was proud of and to put it somewhere that I would see it everyday. This would be a reminder of the girl I was before I became Mrs. Good.  I couldn’t find it until one day I opened a box from Skip’s office and there it was…my beloved husband had kept it in his office for years.

So here is the famous photo below of me in Paris on my 32nd birthday … notice I have only one earring on!