Letter From Paris: Our Mothers, Our Selves

Crossposted at HuffingtonPost.com. Comments not included here.

My friend Elizabeth and I are lolling in the steaming pool with the branches of a giant Mayten tree sheltering us. The sky is gray and threatening rain, but we don't care. We are zen--just the two of us--and for the first time in a very long time we are alone without husbands or children. Elizabeth (Libbi to me) and I have been friends for every breath we've taken in this life and before--since we swam in the amniotic waters in our mothers' bulging wombs. She is my sister even if we share neither blood nor bone.

Healing Arts Center & Spa at Cavallo Point (Photo by Kodiak Greenwood)


*

On another Mother's Day that also landed on May 9th, our mothers--Bobbye Arnold and Polly Evans--were young women friends in Batesville, Arkansas, caring for their baby girls. Elizabeth was a little more than three months old and I less than one month, when our mothers cooed in our ears and warmed our bottles, and probably felt tired as hell on our first Mother's Day with them. Bobbye and Polly went to the same church, organized birthday parties with homemade cakes, washed and curled our hair. Polly once spanked both of us and put us in our separate corners because of our lipstick destruction to Elizabeth's sister's room.

During the years when Elizabeth and I were growing up and the world around us shattered--Polly and her husband Budge got a divorce and my father Bill tragically died in a diving accident--Elizabeth and I stuck together and held each other up. She went to a college, which we'd visited because of a blind date I once had, while I college hopped. We both married...more than once. I gave birth to my two daughters and she delivered her only child. Elizabeth moved to California, where she has stayed, while I live in Paris now. She is well versed in my family, my history, and in some ways she knows me better than I know myself. I call her to search through my own memory.

But it is our great fortune that for the last five years or so, I've been traveling to a neck of Elizabeth's woods and my daughter Blair's hometown San Francisco at least once a year, and we get to hang together, eat and drink, and tell our sacred stories. It is a relief from my expat life to loll in the bosom of our friendship. But even with this we've had no time to spend alone without our husbands and children. This is part of the problem, of course. I live a continent and ocean apart from my own daughters, so that when I'm in the same country as they are we spend every minute we can together. On this Mother's Day, I want to state that spending time with my daughters is one of my greatest pleasures in life.

But here's the thing that we mothers know: Even with our daughters--our children--who may be our greatest accomplishments, we need our friends to help us nourish our souls. So this past December Elizabeth and I finally took a night to honor ourselves by spending time alone. This was a blissful day and night at the lodge and spa by San Francisco's Golden Gate called Cavallo Point.

Cavallo Point (Photo by Kodiak Greenwood)

I am a lover of spas, and I discovered Cavallo Point last year when Blair and I were planning our mother-daughter trip up the northern California coast. Besides the fact that Cavallo Point's range of spa and wellness treatments made my heart beat faster, this lodge seemed a visionary and perfect combination of urban and natural. Nurturing our minds and bodies--our whole selves--must be part of any woman's "whole" future. An easy getaway (which reduces stress), Cavallo Point is located on the San Francisco Bay at the foot of the Golden Gate Bridge, minutes from San Francisco and Sausalito, and a good jumping off point for a drive up the spectacular coast. I had been yearning to stay there ever since.

Part of the charm of this property is that it is historic and part of the Golden Gate National Parks. It once was a military base called Fort Baker, and what were originally administration buildings, military apartments, and houses look like an old-fashioned camp and the homes in which your grandmothers might've raised their families. But there are also modern rooms with a killer view of the Golden Gate Bridge, which greatly appealed to me since I live in old Paris all the time. Fort Baker has been beautifully restored. Because the Cavallo Point team had read and loved my piece about Blair and my trip last year, they offered us a chance to be their guests.

Historic House

Modern Suite (Photo by Steven Rothfeld)

Elizabeth and I were not disappointed. We arrived at Cavallo Point, and after checking into our room and a taking leisurely look around the entire luscious property, we were off to our holy grail, the Healing Arts Center and Spa. First stop, Tea Bar.

Can I just say here that we would like to have ordered everything on the menu, but here's what we got:

Fire Wellness Shot--a powerful, immune-boosting tonic. a potent & natural anti-bacterial, anti-viral remedy for seasonal cold & flu relief or general health. fresh lemon, ginger, oregano oil & aged garlic. $5

Goji Lime Colada--a refreshing juice which promotes youth, radiance, agility & overall balance. goji berries, lime, agave. $8

That Fire Wellness Shot had such a healthful kick that we repeated it the next morning. Also, the Tea Bar was full of natural and holistic products that I wanted to buy and carry home to Paris, France. From there, we went to changing from clothes to swimsuits and steamy pool lolling. The serenity that oozed from this space and its staff was sublime. Why can't I replicate this feeling for myself?

Elizabeth padded off to her fabulous Herbal Stone Massage while I climbed the stairs to my energetic Thai treatment that would crack open my body, clear out the dead energy, and bring in the new. Putting myself on the record here for saying I'd like to come to Cavallo Point and live for a month. Take a spa treatment every day, participate in a yoga class, and hike. Heck, I'd love to write there, spa myself silly, and engage in a month of healing. I'd also be close enough to the city to take care of business, spend time with my daughter, and do everything else in the U.S. that I am called upon to do. I would start at the top of the Spa Treatment list and continue on through the Healing Arts Services and try everything they've got, and this, my friends, would be nirvana.

After another dip in a more private hot tub, we walked on clouds back to our room and dressed for dinner. It wasn't far to walk to Cavallo Point's Michelin-star restaurant Murray Circle, but it was raining now, and we ordered a driver to pick us up in his golf cart. (Wouldn't I like to have one of these in Paris!) Once we arrived, we were seated at the coziest banquette. Because Elizabeth and I again wanted to order everything our eyes lit on, we chose the Grand Tasting Menu with wine pairing. As we talked about all the things we needed to tell each other, we were brought one amazing course after another of the freshest local foods and carefully chosen wines. Both our mothers were/are fine Southern cooks. Let me just say Elizabeth and I know good food.

*

Once upon a time, my mother's father, who was the only grandfather I ever knew, had taken home movies of his grandchildren. My sweet cousin had recently copied them and made DVDs for all of us. I hadn't seen the movies in decades and was waiting until Elizabeth and I could watch them together. So when we returned to our lush suite, we screened one after another. It was surreal to see my birthday party when I was maybe four years old with my friends and some of their mothers, sitting and watching and helping Mother wait on us. I had a ponytail with bow in my hair, but Libbi's ponytail was longer than mine.

My own mother dropped dead in 2003, a few months after I moved to France. It broke my heart, but in these old films she was alive and well, vibrant and beautiful. Watching these films and with this amazing experience together, Elizabeth and I took the time to touch base with the ancient runes between us, and our families.

And now on this Mother's Day of 2010, I think of my Bobbye and Polly as young mothers all those years ago. Now mother Bobbye is dead while Polly is going strong. Both of them would love Cavallo Point as would my and Elizabeth's daughters. If I could make my own sweet-by-and-by, we would have a mystical meeting, together one last time.

Happy Mother's Day to all mothers everywhere...and to our daughters every one.

This column is dedicated to Bobbye Arnold and Polly Livingston and to my friend Elizabeth Evans.

Unless otherwise indicated, photos by Beth Arnold.

                                                                       ---Beth Arnold in Paris