Very lovely, Michael, thank you! Your story moves me, and not just because I’m a francophile who adores traditional French chanson. Though I must admit that any mention of Piaf, Aznavour or the like can set my pulse racing.

You know, when Lenny was nearing the end of his life, he and I also traveled to Paris, as part of quite a long trip to the UK, Germany, and the low countries.

He'd never traveled outside the US, but with his time drawing near, suddenly he felt the urge to see more of the world. I was happy to play tour guide, having lived in Europe for 5 years before we met.

The trip was glorious, especially Paris, which he fell in love with, and where he met an old shopkeeper who was delighted to speak Yiddish with him. They ended up corresponding for a while.

I wouldn't normally want to put a link to one of my own stories under yours, but I think you might enjoy reading my impressions of Lenny's and my travels, and my decision about how to memorialize two sets of cremated ashes:

https://medium.com/prismnpen/our-queer-life-was-not-a-travelogue-fc5906a9c7ad?sk=674ad04158853082e2fa7720299fa0b3