Gardens and Gifts

In the film, 50 First Dates, Drew Barrymore’s character wakes up each and every morning to find that her short- and medium-term memories have been wiped clean. With the help of her new husband, played by Adam Sandler, she starts from scratch building new ones that will be sadly be forgotten by the next day, only to be retrieved with the help of others.

Last week, while visiting the Palace of Versailles on a family vacation, I confess to having had a very similar feeling. As we stood atop the terrace that overlooks the dramatic gardens designed by Andre le Notre, gazing at the reflecting ponds and well-manicured lawns that stretch all the way to the horizon, I tried to recall having been there before. The occasion was another family trip, this one taken with my parents when I was barely 16 years old; exactly 40 years ago. I remembered that we did go to Versailles, I recalled the Hall of Mirrors vaguely, as well as the ornate furniture and painted ceilings of the king's private chambers, but of this view, absolutely nothing. The thought troubled me.

My daughter, Jessica, and I bought a picnic lunch from one of the outdoor cafes politely hidden from view in the maze of hedges and then sat on a bench in the brisk December air and ate our dejeuner. As we sat and talked, my eyes kept going to the vista before me and my memory strained, but to no avail.

We took our time and then walked on to view the Grand Trianon Palace, the Petit Trianon and, finally, the quaint peasant village built for Marie Antoinette so she could play at living a simpler life while chaos raged back in Paris. I let Jessica take the lead, hoping that by following her own desires, she might retain more memories of this remarkable place.

As we made the long walk back up to the main palace and our train ride home, I took one last, long look at the gardens and thought of that trip four decades ago, when my parents introduced me to Europe. Now, I was doing the same thing for my own child, so I had the satisfaction of “paying it forward.” But then it occurred to me that we were only taking this trip because of a recent inheritance from my father, so the gift was really from him. Then again, most of our family money has its origins in an inheritance from my mother’s father, so, in fact, both trips had been handed down over multiple generations.

I shared these thoughts with Jessica and then had the insight that this wondrous creation in the woods of Versailles, which we were currently enjoying, had also been handed down. Not only from the vision of Louis IV and his team of talented architects and artists, but from the backs of the peasants and merchants whose labor and taxes provided for its construction.

So, here’s hoping that 40 years from now, as my daughter stands on that very spot with her own children – perhaps on a trip paid for by an inheritance from her dear departed father – she will remember, at that moment, our conversation from long, long ago and share with her offspring an awareness of upon whose shoulders all future generations must stand. If she is able to do all that, the view will be all the better for it.