Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Grace Triumphant 007
March 6, 2005
Greg surprised me with flowers last night. He's never done that before, except on the usual occasions. Then he told me I've always been the most important woman in his life. Then he dropped the bombshell: he wants another baby.
I was amazed that this is what's been bothering him. I wondered why he would carry on so much over the last few weeks. I've never been adamant that we had to stop at two. In fact, it was Greg who made the decision after Rachel came to stop having children in order to provide for the children we had. I was always willing to have more and let the future take care of itself.
After all, I worked my way through two colleges, and it never hurt me. So I thought it unnecessary to have the children's education completely paid for before they even got to college. But Greg has always been prudent.
But last evening he started crying when he told me how much he loves me and loves to see me with the children and what a good wife and mother I am. He's still not himself, but he's always been a great provider, and as long as he has peace of mind about Baby Three, I have peace of mind as well.
He went off to work late this morning. I've had laundry to do and a million errands. He just called to say he has to stay late again tonight, but he promises that the overtime should end before the month ends. He says that he should get a bonus and maybe we can go off for a weekend to a bed and breakfast. We could leave the children with his sister.
Greg's always pretty glib about leaving the kids with his family. I don't like to impose, but maybe we should. He's been worried about the new Associate VP position that's about to open up. But really, there are three entry engineers in the company. And there's a young woman who does the drafting for them. She comes to work in midriff sweaters and has a diamond chip on the side of her nose. Greg is the only senior engineer.
If the two men who run the place promote from inside the small company, I can't think of anybody else but Greg who's ready for the position. But it seems to be worrying him a lot. He's hardly been himself.
Still, on with the story!
The coffee place was tucked inside an upscale strip mall in Asheville. Only after I had coffee and Beauchamp had hot tea and we had secured a table to ourselves, did he speak about the "changes in the wind."
"Steven's announcement truly amazed Beauchamp," he said quietly. For the cold Saturday shopping he wore his long black wool coat and the light gray hat, which now sat with his short cane and gloves on the chair next to him. Saturday or not, he still dressed with his customary European meticulousness and style. He was wearing cufflinks. The day would not come when Beauchamp failed to dress as an educated gentleman before the world at large, where ever he encountered it.
"What was that idea you told me about," I said. "Change is constant?"
He nodded. "Yes. Time is a river without banks. All is change. There is no holding on; no going back. We can only move forward."
He had sparkling dark eyes that carried most of his expression, for he rarely smiled and never showed any strong emotion with his voice. He lifted his eyes and I saw that he was sad.
"What is it, Mr. Beauchamp?"
"My elder son has called upon me, dear Grace. He reminds me of many things I put away when my wife passed away."
"I thought you sold your house over there?"
"He reminds me of my duties, Grace. He wants me to come home."
"Home?" I asked. "This is your home now."
He hesitated and then said, "No, dear. Even with you, my American friend, this is not home. I have two sons. Now they have children. I have hurt them by this distance. I will only hurt them more if I stay here. I must go and be a good father and a good grandpapa."
For a long moment we only looked at each other. "Will you come back here? To visit?" I asked.
"I will always want to, Grace."
I looked down.
His voice continued: "But the boys must have their due. They will want me and my time."
I kept my eyes on the tabletop. Hilary herself had warned me months before that Beauchamp was hiding from his own past. But a good woman could make a man brave by respecting and admiring him. She had told me that. She and others had said that I had changed Mr. Beauchamp, helped him.
But now that he had become brave, a huge gap opened up in front of me. No more happy lunches and conversations. No more learning. And worst of all, Mr. Beauchamp really was only an ordinary man, haunted by his own fears, unable to live up to his own ideals of being a "rational theist." But I pushed that thought away. He had been kind and generous with me.
"Mr. Beauchamp, I really don't know what I'll do without you."
"If that is so, then I have not been a good teacher to you. For I should have told you from the beginning that all life changes. You must try to adapt to change."
I even felt a flicker of annoyance with him. He hadn't adapted to change very well. He had, quite literally, run away from home when his wife died. Maybe he knew the thought that crossed my mind.
"We shall always have this great friendship in our hearts, dear Grace," he said. "I have never had the delight of a young person---a young woman---who has so listened to me and pondered the ideas that I discovered and treasured."
He paused. "Would you have me stay, knowing that I have abandoned my children?" he asked. "I don't think you would."
"No, of course not." But I still couldn't look at him.
"My own frailty has caused pain to many people, and now to you," he said. "And for that, I am very sorry. For you deserve to be happy. You are a fine young woman and a friend whose every action has been praise worthy."
Then I looked up at him. "No, it is life," I told him. "A part of life." I hesitated. "You've enlarged my mind," I said without thinking.
"You have enlarged my soul."
He was always so kind, but this declaration startled me, and I stared at him. "Now I have the strength to go home, to face all the places I dreaded to see again," he said. "If I find you have worked this change in me simply because you are a beautiful young woman I shall feel a fool. But I think it was more than that."
"What was it then?" I whispered.
"You have given me a beautiful demonstration that knowledge must unfold, Grace. But how can I know anything until I take the risk to learn? You have been an excellent student, and you have taught me all over again to continue to learn. I must learn to live the life I tried to leave behind. I must be brave about all things and expect to see the wisdom of the Providence that guides us."
|
Greg surprised me with flowers last night. He's never done that before, except on the usual occasions. Then he told me I've always been the most important woman in his life. Then he dropped the bombshell: he wants another baby.
I was amazed that this is what's been bothering him. I wondered why he would carry on so much over the last few weeks. I've never been adamant that we had to stop at two. In fact, it was Greg who made the decision after Rachel came to stop having children in order to provide for the children we had. I was always willing to have more and let the future take care of itself.
After all, I worked my way through two colleges, and it never hurt me. So I thought it unnecessary to have the children's education completely paid for before they even got to college. But Greg has always been prudent.
But last evening he started crying when he told me how much he loves me and loves to see me with the children and what a good wife and mother I am. He's still not himself, but he's always been a great provider, and as long as he has peace of mind about Baby Three, I have peace of mind as well.
He went off to work late this morning. I've had laundry to do and a million errands. He just called to say he has to stay late again tonight, but he promises that the overtime should end before the month ends. He says that he should get a bonus and maybe we can go off for a weekend to a bed and breakfast. We could leave the children with his sister.
Greg's always pretty glib about leaving the kids with his family. I don't like to impose, but maybe we should. He's been worried about the new Associate VP position that's about to open up. But really, there are three entry engineers in the company. And there's a young woman who does the drafting for them. She comes to work in midriff sweaters and has a diamond chip on the side of her nose. Greg is the only senior engineer.
If the two men who run the place promote from inside the small company, I can't think of anybody else but Greg who's ready for the position. But it seems to be worrying him a lot. He's hardly been himself.
Still, on with the story!
The coffee place was tucked inside an upscale strip mall in Asheville. Only after I had coffee and Beauchamp had hot tea and we had secured a table to ourselves, did he speak about the "changes in the wind."
"Steven's announcement truly amazed Beauchamp," he said quietly. For the cold Saturday shopping he wore his long black wool coat and the light gray hat, which now sat with his short cane and gloves on the chair next to him. Saturday or not, he still dressed with his customary European meticulousness and style. He was wearing cufflinks. The day would not come when Beauchamp failed to dress as an educated gentleman before the world at large, where ever he encountered it.
"What was that idea you told me about," I said. "Change is constant?"
He nodded. "Yes. Time is a river without banks. All is change. There is no holding on; no going back. We can only move forward."
He had sparkling dark eyes that carried most of his expression, for he rarely smiled and never showed any strong emotion with his voice. He lifted his eyes and I saw that he was sad.
"What is it, Mr. Beauchamp?"
"My elder son has called upon me, dear Grace. He reminds me of many things I put away when my wife passed away."
"I thought you sold your house over there?"
"He reminds me of my duties, Grace. He wants me to come home."
"Home?" I asked. "This is your home now."
He hesitated and then said, "No, dear. Even with you, my American friend, this is not home. I have two sons. Now they have children. I have hurt them by this distance. I will only hurt them more if I stay here. I must go and be a good father and a good grandpapa."
For a long moment we only looked at each other. "Will you come back here? To visit?" I asked.
"I will always want to, Grace."
I looked down.
His voice continued: "But the boys must have their due. They will want me and my time."
I kept my eyes on the tabletop. Hilary herself had warned me months before that Beauchamp was hiding from his own past. But a good woman could make a man brave by respecting and admiring him. She had told me that. She and others had said that I had changed Mr. Beauchamp, helped him.
But now that he had become brave, a huge gap opened up in front of me. No more happy lunches and conversations. No more learning. And worst of all, Mr. Beauchamp really was only an ordinary man, haunted by his own fears, unable to live up to his own ideals of being a "rational theist." But I pushed that thought away. He had been kind and generous with me.
"Mr. Beauchamp, I really don't know what I'll do without you."
"If that is so, then I have not been a good teacher to you. For I should have told you from the beginning that all life changes. You must try to adapt to change."
I even felt a flicker of annoyance with him. He hadn't adapted to change very well. He had, quite literally, run away from home when his wife died. Maybe he knew the thought that crossed my mind.
"We shall always have this great friendship in our hearts, dear Grace," he said. "I have never had the delight of a young person---a young woman---who has so listened to me and pondered the ideas that I discovered and treasured."
He paused. "Would you have me stay, knowing that I have abandoned my children?" he asked. "I don't think you would."
"No, of course not." But I still couldn't look at him.
"My own frailty has caused pain to many people, and now to you," he said. "And for that, I am very sorry. For you deserve to be happy. You are a fine young woman and a friend whose every action has been praise worthy."
Then I looked up at him. "No, it is life," I told him. "A part of life." I hesitated. "You've enlarged my mind," I said without thinking.
"You have enlarged my soul."
He was always so kind, but this declaration startled me, and I stared at him. "Now I have the strength to go home, to face all the places I dreaded to see again," he said. "If I find you have worked this change in me simply because you are a beautiful young woman I shall feel a fool. But I think it was more than that."
"What was it then?" I whispered.
"You have given me a beautiful demonstration that knowledge must unfold, Grace. But how can I know anything until I take the risk to learn? You have been an excellent student, and you have taught me all over again to continue to learn. I must learn to live the life I tried to leave behind. I must be brave about all things and expect to see the wisdom of the Providence that guides us."
