I am terrible at French. I took it for five years in school and I'm pretty sure my participation grades were due to proximity to the best kids in the class, not my accent or confidence (since I had neither). Always make friends with the smart kids - the only reason I passed math as well. Anyways, in Grade 11, our french teacher Mme Tremblay despaired for me. At the same table she had Morgan, Charles and Jess, who were well on their way to fluency, and me, hopeless. Over the year she became fixated on my future in particular: "Amy, what are you going to do if you get a French boyfriend? What will you say to him??" "Amy, your boyfriend Pierre, he cannot understand you, how can you let him down?" "Amy, focus, think of Pierre!"
It's become clear that the tactic would have been much more effective on Jess, who, I'm delighted to tell you, married her Québécois boyfriend Alexandre in August. Getting to know Alex in the past few years, over roadtrips and dinners, ramen and poutine, in Edmonton and Canmore and Quebec City, has been a lot of fun (often at Jess's expense - sorry Jess...). I couldn't ask for a better guy for her, so it made it really special to be able to help the two of them and their families celebrate together, in Quebec City and Edmonton.
If you've met Jess, you know she has this sparkle to her, a vividness that comes through in her manner and conversation, she's always quick to laugh and warmly generous, occasionally quite silly, prone to singing; I wanted her flowers to reflect this joy with bright colour and lightness. Watching her walk down the aisle with Alex, whether I succeeded or not wouldn't have mattered - the flowers were joyful from mere proximity to her.
All photos are by Junophoto