Ducky Mommy

Tonight my husband and I went to a concert at the opera house in town. It was his birthday gift for me: a symphony and choir performance. Beautiful music, elegant audience, everyone sitting quietly and behaving exactly as one should in an opera house.

It reminds me of another concert.

A concert I once wanted to attend so badly that I was ready to take a train across the country, spend the night alone in Paris, and come back the next day just to be there for a few hours.

It was Linkin Park.

Two years ago the band announced they were coming back. When I watched their mini concert online, a part of my life came back. After everything that had happened, no one really believed they would return. But there they were again. Then the tour was announced : Paris. July 11.

We live in the south of France, which normally makes Paris a serious trip. But when I saw the date, the distance suddenly felt like a small detail. I wanted to go.

I mentioned it to my husband at dinner table and he said, “We’ll see.”

In a marriage, that answer usually means “maybe not but I won’t say it yet”

A week later the ticket sale date was announced. Everyone knew the tickets would disappear within minutes. My husband was on a business trip that week, so during our evening call I told him I planned to try to get one. His reaction was immediate !

My husband : It’s in Paris. Who will take care of the kids? I might be traveling at that time. And how much will it cost ?”

Me : It’s Friday night. I can take the train after dropping our son off at school. You’ll be back in the evening. I’ll come back Saturday afternoon. I’ll see if I’ll find a hotel or taking the night bus to come back earlier.

… the conversation went on …

He wasn’t convinced. “You won’t go,” he said.

Then we hung up.

That sentence made me furious. But after a few minutes I realized that the concert itself was no longer the real issue. What upset me was the way the conversation had ended. He hadn’t really listened to what I was saying, nor had he tried to think about possible solutions. He had simply closed the discussion and decided what was reasonable for me. I was still upset when I went to bed, and I remember crying, partly out of frustration and partly because the whole situation felt unfair. It wasn’t really about the concert anymore. What hurt me most was the feeling that my opinion, even my feelings had simply been brushed aside.

Sometime during the night, between irritation and reflection, my thoughts became clearer. I could understand his concerns about the distance, the children, and the cost. Those were reasonable questions. But one thing also became very clear to me: he could disagree, but he could not make that decision for me. It’s my call.

So the next morning I sent him a message saying that I understood his concerns, but whether I went to the concert or not was “MY” decision. If I managed to get a ticket, I would go.

That message did not improve his mood. Our call that evening was short and rather cold.

The next morning the tickets went on sale. Like thousands of other fans who had decided they absolutely needed to be there, I was already online well before ten o’clock, waiting in the queue and watching the minutes pass.

While I was staring at my screen, my son passed by and asked what I was doing. When I told him that I was trying to get a ticket for the Linkin Park concert in Paris, he stopped for a moment and looked at me with a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

My son : Mom… you’re over fifty. How can you go to a Linkin Park concert alone? You can’t even jump.

My : Don’t worry, my son. Your mom is younger than you thought ! IN the worse case, would simply play the old lady so they would give me a little space.

A few minutes later, against all expectations, I managed to get a ticket.

That evening I told him that I got the ticket and he could consider the concert my Christmas gift so he wouldn’t need to buy anything else for me. He didn’t really agree but no choice.

Days passed, months gone, life goes on. 

Sometime in the spring I began having stomach pain from time to time. At first I thought it was something I had eaten, but the pain kept returning and eventually my doctor sent me for an ultrasound. The diagnosis was simple: small stones in my gallbladder.

Between May and early July I made a few memorable visits to the emergency room during the night. Eventually the surgeon scheduled an operation : July 16. When I heard the date, my first thought was reassuring. The concert was on July 11. I could still go to Paris, enjoy the evening, come home, and deal with the surgery a few days later.

The plan was still perfect !

On the night of July 9, I ended up once again in the emergency room, this time with a generous dose of morphine to calm the pain.

When I came home the next morning, my husband looked at me and asked quietly,

“So… Paris?”

I looked at him, then took my phone, cancelled the hotel, and put my train tickets and my precious Linkin Park ticket back on the resale website.

He nodded and said, “It’s a good choice. I’m glad you are reasonable.”

I smiled and surrendered gracefully. But a little evil voice in my head says “It wasn’t me who had suddenly become reasonable. It was my gallbladder who had betrayed me.”

Anyway, Linkin Park has announced another concert in Lyon in June 2026. I’m thinking of trying again.

This time, I hope my organs will behave.