Le blog de maud.tardieu

Addressed to Patrice Tardieu on a small piece of cardboard:

«　My Pat,

All my life, all my strength, all my courage is you. You have taught me what is the strongest in oneself. You give me the «　not-forgotten　», you give me «　the beyond　» and the regret not to have given you more. It’s you who gave me «　life　».

I give you the intangible, the non-visible, the feeling without words, the silent access of great worth, the «　near　» so profound and all my tenderness.

Your mum".

Patrice Tardieu, in answer to a letter he has received after the death of Maud: No, I don’t have «　the happiness to read the writings　» of my mother, because I can’t read them, my eyes blur themselves so much with tears; what she writes moves me. I blame myself not to have enough returned her love-tenderness.

    ..............................................................................Maud’s trunk (6)

«　A pain on which you can rely, to go further, without leaving the one who seems not to be anymore.　» (written on a small piece of paper by Maud, as all the other texts).

An account by Patrice Tardieu of the «　departure　» of Maud Tardieu, his mother, written two days later:

«　Perhaps she called me in the night? All alone in the dark?

What could I have done?

At least take her hand…

I didn’t hear anything. I was sleeping.

Anyhow the noise of the street in the room in which I sleep is so that I cannot hear if someone is calling…

I didn’t even think of it.

She had said to me: «　See you tomorrow morning, at breakfast, My Pat　.»

The morning after, I was preparing her breakfast.

She was dead. I had opened the inside shutters, pulled the curtains.

I try to wake her up, she does not move, she doesn’t say as she did every morning: «　Good morning, My Pat.　», «　have you slept well?　»,　«　how are you this morning?　»

She lived for me, with me, in me. She believed in me.

My sole presence comforted her; my peaceful way of being there when I worked near her, in her room, reassured her.

In the evening, we would look at a film; when I went in the shower room, just beside, which stayed with the lights on, she was always surprised: «　Already?　» («　you’re going　»). I would put the light out of her bedside lamp, lower the adjustable back of her bed. She would go to sleep while I was shaving and cleaning myself. But, nearly always, from the dark, a voice would resound: «　Tomorrow morning, maybe we could take together our breakfast?　»

I answered: «　Maybe…　»

.

La malle de Maud (4)

«　Être si près et ne pas s’embrasser et laisser l’espace vous séparer;

douleur,

une souffrance très forte, touchée du bout des doigts. La tension est très profonde et devient insupportable.　»

Après la vie

«　Quand j’irai habiter ailleurs　»

«　Je suis d’une tranquillité absolue, je ne suis plus dans le tourbillon de la vie.　»

Patrice Tardieu:

tout le monde me dit «　Votre mère est morte dans son sommeil, c’est ainsi que l’on voudrait tous mourir; c’est la plus belle mort; de plus, elle est morte à la maison auprès de son fils.　»

Oui, mais moi,  je ne voulais pas qu’elle meure. Elle me manque. Je comprends maintenant qu’elle ne pouvait pas vivre sans moi, et moi sans elle. Mais elle «　habite　» ailleurs. Elle n’est plus que cendres…C’est pourquoi, pour qu’elle «　vive　» encore, je publie ses textes.

                                      .......................................................Maud’s trunk (4)

«　To be so near and not kiss one another, let space separate us; ache,

sharp pain touched nearly by the finger’s end. The tension goes deep inside and becomes unbearable.　»

After my life

«　when I will dwell elsewhere　»

«　I am totally calm,

I am not anymore in the turmoil of life.　»

Patrice Tardieu:

everyone tells me «　Your mother died during her sleep. It’s like that we all would like to die; it’s the best death. And moreover, she died at home, with her son beside her.　»

Yes, but I didn’t want her to die. I miss her. I understand now that she could not live without me and me without her. But she  «　dwells　» elsewhere. She is now ashes…It’s why, so that she still «　lives　», I put on line her writings…

La malle de Maud (2)

Lettre retrouvée adressée à Patrice Tardieu,janvier 1997

«　Mon Pat,

Ces mots prononcés sont là comme une tendresse profonde. Ils donnent l’essence de soi-même. Ils sont doux en eux-mêmes; les prononcer apaise, rapproche, apporte le sourire, la joie. Ils sont silencieux du fond de soi, calfeutrés, vivants, accompagnant les jours, en les entourant d’une impression ouateuse, calme, chaude et colorée comme un tableau de Gauguin ou le tien. Rien n’atteint un tel degré de richesse dans ma vie.

Maman　»

Quand Jacques, son frère aîné, est mort, elle écrivit ce mot sur un bout de papier: «　Après, quand je dormirai près de toi, Jacques, mon frère et je vivrai encore en lui, dans mon fils　».

...............................................................................................Maud’s trunk (2)

Letter to Patrice Tardieu, January 1997,rediscovered

«　My Pat,

These uttered words are like a profound tenderness. They give the essence of oneself. They are soft in themselves. To utter them calms, puts us together, brings a smile , joy. They are silent in ourselves, they cuddle, living with us during the days, surrounding us with a woolly impression; full of calm, warm and coloured like a Gauguin painting or one of yours. Nothing reaches such a degree of richness in my life.

Mum　»

When, Jacques, her older brother, died, she wrote on a piece of paper: «　Afterwards, when I will sleep beside you, Jacques, my brother, I will still live in him, through my son.　»