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I can still remember the day my daughter, Eve, promised to take me to Paris.
Eve’s dreams are painstakingly specific: a pink Infiniti convertible; male and female shih tzus; shopping sprees funded by her job as a lawyer; a corner office with a view.
However, this dream of Paris is different from the rest. It’s a dream she wants us to experience together. In my mind’s eye, I can see it. My daughter and I strolling the Champs Elysees, taking selfies on the banks of the Seine and staring up at the Eiffel Tower.
For just a moment, though, in the wake of the Paris terror attacks this weekend, I doubted we’d ever go there. That is, until I looked at my daughter, and saw that nothing had changed.
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