Avant de m\u2019envoler, arriverais-je \u00e0 extraire mon c\u0153ur de son \u00e9crin de chagrin? J\u2019ai \u00e9t\u00e9 femme, puis homme pour ma descendance, et me voici, ni l\u2019une ni l\u2019autre pour moi-m\u00eame. J\u2019ai quelquefois l\u2019impression que mon c\u0153ur pourrait cesser de battre, comme si un ange allait enlever les piles. Je ne tiens qu\u2019\u00e0 un fil, et je n\u2019ai qu\u2019une toute petite id\u00e9e de ce \u00e0 quoi l\u2019\u00e9ternit\u00e9 ressemblerait. Je m\u2019agrippe \u00e0 cette conception de dur\u00e9e qui n\u2019a suppos\u00e9ment ni commencement ni fin.<\/p>\n
Avant de m\u2019envoler, je b\u00e9nirais mes trois rejetons. Une fille et deux gar\u00e7ons, tous dans la cinquantaine aujourd\u2019hui. Ils sont ma raison de vivre, ma joie, mon bonheur et mon h\u00e9ritage ici-bas. Ils m\u2019ont donn\u00e9 quatre petits-fils et deux petites-filles, ainsi que deux arri\u00e8re-petits-fils. Quel immense bonheur ce sera pour moi de les voir bient\u00f4t sauter dans la piscine de leur arri\u00e8re-grand-m\u00e8re!<\/p>\n
Avant de m\u2019envoler, peut-\u00eatre devrais-je me r\u00e9concilier avec le g\u00e9niteur de mes enfants. Surtout, lui pardonner ses b\u00eatises, ses manquements d\u2019amour et sa totale ignorance du droit chemin. Comme je sais que cet homme de 91\u00a0ans vit encore dans son village natal, je devrais au moins le contacter, lui dire quelques bons mots et lui pardonner.<\/p>\n
Avant de m\u2019envoler, je vais prendre le temps de recopier au propre toutes mes meilleures recettes de g\u00e2teau\u00a0: le sachertorte, le citron-pavot, le Reine Elisabeth et le fameux double chocolat bourr\u00e9 de noisettes! De nos jours, les noisettes sont rares et co\u00fbteuses, mais heureusement, j\u2019en trouve des fra\u00eeches chaque samedi de l\u2019\u00e9t\u00e9 au march\u00e9 de Val-David, dans les Laurentides. J\u2019en profite pour faire le plein; deux gros pots Mason que je conserve \u00e0 la noirceur dans l\u2019armoire du haut. Cet \u00e9t\u00e9, j\u2019ai d\u2019ailleurs l\u2019intention d\u2019amener mes deux arri\u00e8re-petits garnements \u00e0 Saint-Ambroise-de-Kildare pour qu'ils puissent eux-m\u00eames cueillir des noisettes et de les regarder se bourrer la fraise.<\/p>\n
Avant de m\u2019envoler, j\u2019aimerais encore dessiner. Oui, oui! La femme d\u2019affaires que j\u2019\u00e9tais jadis transportait toujours son assortiment de crayons noirs bien aiguis\u00e9s et un coffret de 48\u00a0couleurs. \u00c9trangement, j\u2019aimais surtout dessiner des poissons, des hiboux et quelquefois des visages. Assise \u00e0 ma table de cuisine, je contemple un magnifique hibou crayonn\u00e9 par mes mains il y a plusieurs ann\u00e9es d\u00e9j\u00e0. Peut-\u00eatre devrais-je songer \u00e0 recommencer.<\/p>\n
Avant de m\u2019envoler, il faudrait sans doute que je d\u00e9sembourbe mes garde-robes, mais \u00e0 force de vivre en bonne sant\u00e9, je badine, je rigole, je conserve tous ces v\u00eatements color\u00e9s auxquels je suis tr\u00e8s attach\u00e9e. Chaque matin, j\u2019enfile du rose ou du jaune, un petit peu de bleu sur mes yeux et du mauve gr\u00e2ce \u00e0 mes nouvelles barniques.<\/p>\n
Avant de m\u2019envoler, je souhaiterais prendre mon temps pour faire mes adieux aux merveilleux paysages que j\u2019ai tant aim\u00e9s. \u00c0 ma splendide Gasp\u00e9sie, \u00e0 mon village natal, aux falaises rouges escarp\u00e9es, aux baleines du bas du fleuve et aux milliers de go\u00e9lands avec lesquels, jeunette, je conversais. Encore une fois, j\u2019insisterais pour revoir le Rocher Perc\u00e9, le traverser \u00e0 mar\u00e9e basse, le toucher, le caresser probablement pour une derni\u00e8re fois.<\/p>\n
Avant de m\u2019envoler, traverserais-je encore quelques oc\u00e9ans? J\u2019ai visit\u00e9 la France, l\u2019Italie, le Danemark, la Su\u00e8de et la Norv\u00e8ge et j\u2019ai habit\u00e9 la terrible Gr\u00e8ce d\u2019o\u00f9 venait l\u2019\u00e9poux. J\u2019ai aussi march\u00e9 deux grosses heures sur la grande muraille de Chine et, trois ans plus tard, j\u2019admirais les cerisiers en fleurs et le plus vieux village du Japon. Ayant tant de fois bourlingu\u00e9 \u00e0 travers notre grand Canada pour y planter plus d\u2019une centaine de restaurants, encore et toujours, je me r\u00e9jouirais d\u2019inaugurer chaque nouveau resto!<\/p>\n
Avant de m\u2019envoler, je voudrais tellement tomber en amour pour vrai. Trouver l\u2019homme de mes r\u00eaves, celui qui nous construirait une petite \u00eele dans nos t\u00eates; l\u00e0 o\u00f9 nos \u00e2mes s\u0153urs se rencontreraient gaiement.<\/p>\n
Avant de m\u2019envoler, j\u2019implorerais les anges pour que mes parents me reconnaissent et m\u2019accueillent \u00e0 la grande porte du ciel. Je leur confesserais mes p\u00e9ch\u00e9s, mes b\u00e9vues, mes torts, mes remords et, je l\u2019esp\u00e8re, on me laisserait entrer au paradis.<\/p>\n
G\u00e9n\u00e9ralement, lorsque j\u2019\u00e9cris assise \u00e0 ma table de cuisine, je ne r\u00e9ponds pas au t\u00e9l\u00e9phone. Mais ce jour-l\u00e0, ce 24\u00a0mars\u00a02025, je ne sais pas pourquoi, mais j\u2019ai r\u00e9pondu. C\u2019\u00e9tait ma bonne amie des Hautes-Laurentides qui m\u2019informait que son \u00e9poux ador\u00e9 venait tout juste de mourir d\u2019un affreux cancer qu\u2019il combattait depuis presque dix\u00a0mois. Je ferme imm\u00e9diatement l\u2019iPad et je pleure \u00e0 gros bouillons. La mort, cette affreuse faucheuse, nous guette jour et nuit.<\/p>\n
Cora
\n\u2764\ufe0f<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Avant de m\u2019envoler, arriverais-je \u00e0 extraire mon c\u0153ur de son \u00e9crin de […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":414,"featured_media":62227,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[32],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-62225","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-lettre-mme-cora"],"acf":{"img_en":"","contenu_en":"Before I fly away, will I manage to remove my heart from its case of sorrow? I was a woman, then assumed the role of a man for my children, and here I am today, neither one or the other for myself. I sometimes feel as if my heart might stop beating, as if an angel were about to remove the batteries. I\u2019m holding on by a thread and I only have an inkling of what eternity might look like. I cling tightly to the idea of time as something that has no beginning or end.\r\n\r\nBefore I fly away, I\u2019ll bless my three children. One daughter and two sons, all in their fifties now. They\u2019re my reason for living, my pride and joy, and my legacy here on Earth. They gave me four grandsons and two granddaughters as well as two great-grandsons. What tremendous pleasure it will be to see them jump into their great-grandmother\u2019s pool soon!\r\n\r\nBefore I fly away, I should perhaps make peace with my children\u2019s genitor. Mainly to forgive him for his mistakes, his complete lack of love and ignorance of what was right. He\u2019s 91 now and still lives in his hometown. I should at least get in touch with him, say a few kind words and forgive him.\r\n\r\nBefore I fly away, I should take the time to properly write out my best cake recipes: sachertorte, lemon poppy, Queen Elizabeth and my famous double chocolate cake stuffed with hazelnuts! These days, hazelnuts are rare and expensive, but thankfully I can purchase fresh ones every summer at the local Saturday outdoor market in Val-David, in the Laurentians. I fill two large Mason jars and store them in the dark in my top cupboard. This summer, I want to take my two rascals of great-grandsons to a place where they can pick hazelnuts themselves and I watch them as they stuff their adorable faces.\r\n\r\nBefore I fly away, I\u2019d like to draw some more. Back in my days as a businesswoman, I\u2019d always have with me a variety of sharpened lead pencils and a set of 48 coloured pencils. Strangely, I especially enjoyed drawing fish, owls and sometimes faces. Sitting at my kitchen table, I\u2019m staring at a beautiful owl sketched by my hand many years ago. Perhaps I should take up drawing again.\r\n\r\nBefore I fly away, I should declutter my closets, but blessed with good health and living well, I instead dilly-dally and have fun, I keep all my colourful clothes that I\u2019m so attached to. Each morning, I dress up in pink or yellow, add a touch of blue on my eyes and purple on my nose thanks to my new glasses.\r\n\r\nBefore I fly away, I\u2019d like to take my time to say goodbye to the beautiful landscapes I\u2019ve loved so much: my splendid Gasp\u00e9sie, my hometown, the steep red cliffs, the St. Lawrence\u2019s whales and the thousands of seagulls I used to talk to when I was a child. I\u2019d insist on visiting Perc\u00e9 Rock once more, walk over at low tide, touch it and caress it again, probably for the last time.\r\n\r\nBefore I fly away, will I cross a few oceans? I\u2019ve visited France, Italy, Denmark, Sweden and Norway. I\u2019ve lived in terrible Greece where Husband came from. I\u2019ve also walked for two long hours on the Great Wall of China and, three years later, admired the cherry tree blossoms in the oldest village in Japan. Having criss-crossed our vast country so many times to help plant more than a 100 restaurants, I\u2019d be just as delighted to inaugurate a new one!\r\n\r\nBefore I fly away, I want so much to fall in love for real. To find the man of my dreams, who\u2019d build us a small island in our heads, where our soulmates would happily meet.\r\n\r\nBefore I fly away, I\u2019ll beg the angels for my parents to recognize and greet me at Heaven\u2019s gate. I\u2019ll confess my sins, my mistakes, my wrongdoings, my remorse and, hopefully, I\u2019ll be welcomed into paradise.\r\n\r\nUsually, when I\u2019m writing at my kitchen table, I don\u2019t answer the telephone. But today, March 24, 2025, I don\u2019t know why, but I answer. It\u2019s my good friend from the Upper Laurentians who\u2019s calling to inform me that her beloved husband has just passed after a 10-month-long battle with a dreadful cancer. I quickly shut my iPad and sob. Death, the horrible grim reaper, peers over us night and day.\r\n\r\nCora\r\n\u2764\ufe0f"},"yoast_head":"\n