Oh, sleep. I wake in a fog, so shockingly late––9:20 a.m.! How can this be? I am so groggy, I cannot think straight. Need coffee, quickly, after a shower. I go out into the shockingly bright morning. The streets are suddenly busy with traffic and I almost immediately step in front of a bicyclist. Aha! We are both safe. Gradually, I awaken. I take my daughter who gets up soon after, and we get baguette and then stop at a cheese shop where she chooses, so carefully, a soft cheese, a blue cheese and a hard cheese. Then, coffee for her, and back up the three flights to our flat for a nice breakfast in front of the open window and summery sun. Somehow, it’s afternoon! I am running my Ukrainian support group late this afternoon, so I decide on a walk to a church, The Chapel of Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal, a 20 minute walk. Just right, to visit and return in time for my group. Off I go, happily; it’s a beautiful afternoon for a walk in the 7th Arrondissement. When I am two minutes from the chapel I get a call that I have to handle about our luggage retrieval from Air France. I sit on a curb and get put on hold. And kept on hold. So long, that I have to let go of the idea of seeing the chapel. I don’t want to waste my miracle on luggage! I head back to our flat, still on hold. Long story short, we are another day without luggage, and yet we have reason to believe our suitcases are at the Paris airport looking for us. My support group goes very well. Meeting yesterday with the other leaders has normalized all my concerns. Yes, this is helpful. They are here, and they want to be together. I tell them I will be here to run this group as long as is needed. Tonight, after, we all meet up from our various activities and walk twelve minutes to the apartment of our dear, dear Parisian friends, Patrice and Veronique whom we have not seen since before the pandemic. Reunion! Laughter and joy. They are full of good news and happy to be with us. We walk to a nearby restaurant, and I’m so grateful to be with them, with all of our great memories nourishing the present. They have so generously given us so many wonderful times in France. I have brought a gorgeous bunch of pink and white peonies from the flower market nearby for Veronique. I am thinking of my own peonies at home just coming into bloom. I think of my father, his peonies, how he loved to show them in bloom. I am thinking of the members of my support group, giving their feelings and thoughts to each other with encouragement, trust, and appreciation for the time spent together.