A Piece Of Heaven Above Paris

I spent the weekend in Paris with my daughter. As soon as we arrived on Friday afternoon and checked into our apartment, we could hardly contain our excitement. The weather was so incredibly beautiful that we didn't have to think twice—we wanted to set off immediately to discover Paris.

The tickets for the Eiffel Tower were actually already sold out online. Nevertheless, we decided to give it a try. On the way there, we passed the Arc de Triomphe – a short stop that already amazed us before we continued on the metro.

We stood in line for quite a while, but eventually the moment arrived: we were at the top. At the top of the Eiffel Tower. And that moment, that view over the whole city, was more than just a sight. We both knew that we weren't just standing above the rooftops of Paris – we were also a little closer to Leon.

Up there, he was closer to us than ever before. A thought that is both comforting and painful. We felt his absence. But we also felt that he was with us—in every glance, in every silent tear, in every breath that felt a little easier at this height.

It wasn't just an outing. It was a moment that we were able to share as mother and daughter—carried by the feeling that Leon was watching over us somewhere above.

And as we stood there, between heaven and earth, I realized once again:

Even though we traveled to Paris for a concert, even though it was supposed to be a spontaneous evening – some experiences cannot be planned. They find us when we least expect them.

And sometimes we suddenly find ourselves standing there – closer to heaven, closer to Leon, and yet in the midst of life.