My Walk with Claude –final

When I heard this from the brother, I was filled with joy and sadness.  Patrice had survived, he wasn’t dead, but he had gone through much suffering and pain and unknown sorrows before he was rescued by these monks.  I was eager for more details, but as before, Brother Andre asked for patience on my part.  He was not finished with his story.  He told me that after this revelation, the monks encouraged Patrice in his recovery.  He began to write out things he remembered of his

past life and shared these with the members of the community.  As the weeks and months passed, he began to not only recover his memory, he began to have

a small ability to speak.  It was raspy and hard to hear, but at times he could communicate.  He told the monks that he felt that he began to feel an attachment to this community of monks and the simple life that they lived.  He was not originally a man of deep religious feelings, but after all that he had experienced in his life up to that point, he felt that there was a reason that he ended up at their doorstep.  He was being drawn into this life of prayer and the community.  After so many years, he realized that he. could not expect that he could return to France and start life over again. He would never forget Claudine and his deep feelings for her, but he could not expect her to be there waiting for him. He was much older now as she would be as well. Hopefully she had gone back to America and started a new life. It would be best for both of them.

Brother Andre related all this from eventual conversations with Patrice as he began to regain his voice.  One day Patrice was properly prepared by many months of study and prayer and he was formally accepted into the religious order of these monks. He took the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience and became Brother Patrice. Finally he had become part of something that he felt he could do for the rest of his life. After so much death, sadness and uncertainty, he was at peace and serene with his new vocation. He was still called Brother Muet by some of the older members, but Brother Patrice became a big part of the monastic community. It was eventually discovered that he did have a fine singing voice as well. He was able to join with the others in singing during the Mass and praying of various parts of the Divine Offices every day.

Pete, although I now knew that we would not be reunited, I was happy that Patrice had been able to recover from all that he had gone through and was able to rebuild his life in such a positive way. At first I was jealous and quite sad that I was no longer part of his life. I thought, what about me? But then. if this was the path that he chose, then I must accept it. As the brother said, so many years had now gone by, it was not realistic to think that we would be able to get together again and begin a new life from where we had left off. It was hard, but it was the only answer for both of us.

Brother Andre then completed his story. He said that he had come back to France because their monastery in Algeria had been closed by the government. There were still many residual animosities against the French and Christians by some of the more radical Muslims. So they all had to return not France. They settled in a small community near Marseilles. They joined with the priests and brothers there and resumed their life of prayer and work. Unfortunately, this was not be their final destination. There had been a few deaths in recent years among the monks and also their finances were not enough to keep the place running. Soon this monastery was also to close. Brother Andre was able to find a place here at this parish. Brother Patrice and a few others in the community had finally found a place in a larger monastery in Normandy. It was a little more cold and desolate, too much so for Brother Andre, so he did not join them there.

The rest of them were able to fit into the new community and helped with the small farming and taking care of the bees that they had.  With the help of Brother Patrice and another brother, they increased the honey output and started producing mead as well as honey. By selling these products they ensured that this community would be better off financially and might survive any hard times. They did not have their own chapel, but since they were neighbors to a community of cloistered nuns, they were able to say daily Mass at the chapel of the sisters. So this is where Patrice is now located.

So Pete, I expect that this is the end of my story.  It may not have ended the way that I hoped, but it did have a better ending than expected.  I don’t think we will meet again. But I wanted to finish this up and let you know what happened to me and Patrice. I will return home and I think that I will be selling my house. It is too big for me and too full of the past. I hope to begin again somewhere. I am not sure where or what it will be. Thank you for listening to my story and allowing me to share it with you.

My best to you in the future

sincerely, Claudine

So there it was.  The end of the story and my Walk with Claude.  It was all something to stay with me for the rest of my life.  I was sad that it had come to an end, but I was just a bystander in this whole chain of events.  Glad to be a part of it,  but now, thats it.  Time to move on.

The following year I was not sure that I wanted to return to the town and see if Claudine was still there.  She said that she was going to sell her house and move, so there was no point of checking on her any longer.  But, curiosity got the better of me, and when the

time came, there we were again, stopping for the garage sales and the busy activities taking place on a hot and humid summer day. I decided that if I walked once again past her house, I would only stop if Sandy was out selling again. If she wasn’t there, I would keep on walking and forget about it. I walked slowly as I didn’t want to take a chance and miss Sandy, just in case.  I guess I was leaving it up to fate.  As I drew closer, I saw that there was Sandy with a couple of big tables sitting under the trees, talking to potential buyers about the valuable wares on her tables.  After the crowd cleared a bit, I approached her to say hello.  She saw me right away.  “So, Pete.. back again this year.  I bet you are not too interested in

what I am selling, but rather in what I might be telling you.  Right?” I laughed at her “I guess that you might be right about that.  Although it does look like you do have some interesting things for sale.  But of course I would love to know what was new about Claudine.”

She looked at me and thought for a moment “Wellllll, I guess of all people, I should be able to share private information about Claudine with you.  I guess she would expect me to do it. “

“Did she sell her house and move from here?” I asked

““Yes she did, I guess.  Its kind of strange, at least to me.  She came back here from over there and went to work cleaning up the house and getting rid of everything.    One day she called me over to talk with her.  She seemed to be in a hurry to go away.  She told me that she had seen a lawyer and drew up legal papers for it all.  She told me that the house was now ready to be sold with the furniture in it as well.  She said that if I would agree to handle the house sale, that I would get half of the proceeds for doing the

work. Some of the rest would go to the local church in town and balance was to be sent to her at a forwarding address that she left for me. I agreed to do it of course, although I thought it was crazy for her to give up everything like this, especially at her age. Anyway, I couldn’t talk her out of it. So that was it. She asked if I still had your address. I told her that I did and gave it to her the next day. I thought that maybe she was going up to see you maybe. I guess she didn’t. So, that was how we left it. I didn’t see her again.

She just disappeared.  After a couple days, I went over to check on her and she was gone,   Just left a note on the kitchen table, saying that she would not be back, and thanks for everything.  I never saw her leave, but one of our neighbors, Nellie Finch, said that she saw someone that looked like Claudine came out the back door of the house one night, carrying a couple suitcases and getting into a car in the alley.  But she said she looked more like a younger girl than Claudine.  I just figured that it was her eyes not working so good at night.  Anyway, I sold the house earlier this year and sent her part of the money to that address, which was over in FRANCE ! of all places.  Thats the end of it.  I haven’t heard from her again. So now you know everything.  At least all that I know.  Now are you going to buy something from me?”  she laughed . I thanked her for sharing the news and giving me all the details of what happened.  I looked over at her tables and noticed that she had a number of old record albums.

““Say, these look like some new items this year.””

“Yes, they are, they came from some of the stuff Claudine left behind in the house.” I

saw that there were some albums of French music, some of the stuff that Claudine had mentioned to me.  I picked up a couple of them, including the Michel Legrand record.   “ I think I can take these.  How much?”  

She stared at me for a moment.  I thought she was computing in her mind how much she could charge. 

Then she just said “You know, I think that

she would want you to have those.  I could never sell them anyway.  She would want you to have those.  I could never sell them anyway.  You take them as a memory of her, okay?” I hadn’t expected that.  It gave me a shiver, I don’t know why.  I grabbed her hand and thanked her and told her that I hoped to see her again next year.

I walked up the street once again, looking for Annie to hear about the treasures that she might have discovered. I really wanted to walk once again down the alley behind Claudine’s house, and maybe find that park again.  I then figured that there was no point to it. So I decided not to and kept on walking.  I met Annie at the usual yard and we and we spent some time shopping.  She found a couple rare gems and was quite excited about her finds. I was happy for her, but was mostly muted in my reactions.  I was still thinking about everything that I learned from Sandy.  So Claudine was gone for good now.  I figured that I knew most of her story now.  I just would not know where she ended up or what she would do in France.  I guess she just thought that she didn’t have anything keep her here in the States and going over there would somehow bring her closer to Patrice.  Although that certainly looked like a dead end to me.  I guess I should consider that I now had closure on this.  The story began a few years ago, quite by accident, and now there was nothing more to say.  It had consumed a good part of my thoughts during this time.  I was rooting for a happy ending and I guess it was in some ways.

Annie and I pulled out of town and headed to the next group of sales and flea markets along the road.  As I drove, I was determined that I would not be back here again next year, at least.  I didn’t have anything to look forward to here and maybe I didn’t want any more reminders of of the whole thing. I would do my best to forget about it, and just keep a few pleasant memories in the back, way back, of my mind. As we traveled down the roads I told Annie that I didn’t think we would do this again next year.  I wanted to plant that into her mind now.  I told her that maybe we might take a trip out west or out to New England for a change.  That is what we did.  The next few summers were spent in trips out west and into the east. I soon had few thoughts about Claudine or her town.  I occasionally wondered what had happened, but as time went out I began to let it all go.

So it was in the fall of the year, the leaves were just starting to change colors and the evening air was beginning to have a little reminder that summer was over and winter would be here one day.  The next day I was sitting in the living room reading a book when Annie came into the house with that day’s mail.  “Say Pete, who in the heck do you know in France?  It looks like it might be from a religious group or something.  It is addressed to you, so maybe they got your name from some other charity.  Should I just pitch it?”

I just said : “ France, dont know what that could be.  But let me take a look at it. “  It then hit me.  France.  It couldn’t be Claudine, its been a couple years now, why would she be writing to me?  Could it be?  I took the letter and my other mail and just put it all together in the back of my book.  I glanced at the letter, and saw right away that it was Claudine’s handwriting on that envelope.  I had no idea what to think, but I would need a little time to take a look at it. Annie came into the living room to tell me that she was going to the mall to do a little shopping and would be back in a couple hours.  Well that would give me time to read the letter and see what this was all about.  I went out into the backyard and settled in a chair looking out over the trees behind the house.  It was a sunny day with mostly blue skies but it was a little chilly, happily, the sun kept me warm enough.  I noticed that the envelope showed that it was from The Abbey of St Therese.  I opened the envelope, now very curious about why it came from a religious destination.   

I began to read it :

Hello Pete, You must be shocked to hear from me once again.  Well, I will try to get to the point right away.  When I left the States, I arrived in France and made my way in this direction.  I think I knew what I was going to do, but I had some doubts.  I came to this religious house in Normandy of course because it was close to where Patrice was now living.  I couldn’t contact him or see him, but I wanted to do something.  The next thing, I went to the door of this convent of religious sisters and asked to speak to whomever was in charge.  Before I knew it, I was making plans to spend some time here deciding if I would be a good candidate to become a NUN!  Of all things.  Don’t laugh.  My initial motives were a little devious, but after a few weeks here my mind started to change.  The longer that I lived with these holy sisters, the more I noticed a change coming over me.  My goal of seeing Patrice was overcome by this new feeling I had that this is a place where I should have come to long ago.  I loved the solitude and the daily activities and prayer life.  I was finally accepted as a candidate, a novice.  It is a testing period for the novice.  My time as a novice lasted for more that a year as there were many things to do, studies and consultations with the Sister Superior and a little background checks on me as well.  This is a time of prayer and devotion to decide if this was going to be how I spend the rest of my life.  They were not getting a spring chicken, but they were going to get a hard worker and a devoted sister, if I made it.  During this time, everyday we all went to Mass in the early morning and assembled in our pews.  Since we are a cloistered order, we do not communicate with the rest of the world.  Our pews are behind an enclosure with a screen, so we can view the Mass as the priest celebrates it, and we can hear the prayers and we can sing as well.  The first time I attended Mass in the chapel I was excited to see that the monks of the monastery were in attendance in the pews in the front rows.  There were about nine or ten of them and they would sing some of the hymns during Mass.  I searched the faces of the monks and I suddenly recognized Patrice.  He was older of course and he had a full beard, that was mostly gray now, but it truly was him.  My first thoughts were selfish, like why were we apart all those years, and why can we only be together again now, but separated by a screen and so much more over time.  But after  awhile I soon was just happy that I could hear his voice amongst the singing of the other monks and see his face as he sang.  He would not be able to see me and I was already wearing a religious habit.  But we were reunited again.  I confessed all this to the priest and even to Mother Superior to be sure that I was not becoming a nun here just to be with my old lover.  We talked it over a few times and I prayed about it, and finally my mind was at peace.  This was my life now, whether Patrice was there or not.  So this will be the last you will ever hear form me, Pete.  I had to bring closure to our relationship.  You know of my life, and you deserve to know how it will conclude.  By the time you read this letter, I will have taken my final vows.  I will be a full member of my order and have taken the name Sister Claude Marie.  I will be here the rest of my life, living with my fellow sisters.  Praying and working for God each day of my life. God has allowed me to be able to see Patrice every day and hear his voice.  He doesn’t know that he also hears my voice along with the singing with all of my fellow sisters.  God has reunited us.  I would have never believed that this is how it would be resolved.  God works his deeds in wondrous ways.  I am at peace and I am sure that Patrice is as well.

sincerely

Sister Claude Marie

I folded the letter up and put it back into the envelope.  I went into the house and pulled out the record that I bought from Sandy.  I put it on my old turntable and thought that this would be a perfect ending for the story for me.  As the “Theme from the Moulin Rouge” started to play I sat down and closed my eyes.  I could see the two young lovers walking down a street, hand in hand planning their future.  It might not have been as they planned, but it certainly did turn out all right.  

end

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