“Life is what you make of it, Emily. So make the best of it…”

I wished with all my heart that my father were still with me, but I knew he wasn’t that far away because I still felt his love enveloping me in the same way his strong arms used to wrap me in a bear hug.

After gathering my things and making sure my camera was fully charged, I left the hotel and headed out.

I saw many things that day.

I went to the Cimetière du Père-Lachaise, where I laid some flowers on Jim Morrison’s grave. I was bemused to see how graffiti-covered his headstone was. Some people had a strange way of showing their respects, I guess.

I went to Les Invalides and marveled over the large collection of weaponry and suits of armor.

I went to the Opéra Garnier, where I admired the magnificence of its opulent architecture. If I closed my eyes, I could almost hear the swish of ladies’ skirts and the flutter of their fans.

And of course, I went back to the Louvre. The Mona Lisa was starting to feel like family to me.