Monday Memories—Like a Horse and Carriage

My sister, Rachel, wrote about her and Bert’s engagement on their blog this weekend, and it reminded me . . .


Calvin, a couple of mutual friends, and I took a Theatre and Cinematic Arts class together one semester at BYU. One of our assignments was to see On Golden Pond with Henry and Jane Fonda and Katherine Hepburn. On February 9th Calvin and I went to see it and then returned to my apartment afterwards. We were visiting in the kitchen when out of the blue, and off the topic, he asked if he could see my Bible. I retrieved it and he turned to Genesis 2:18 and had me read: “It is not good for man to be alone.” He told me to always remember that. It was as random then as it is in this paragraph.

A little later Calvin told me he needed to get something out of his pick-up and left the apartment. He was gone for a long time and his hands were cold when he came back in, but I didn’t think much of it until he asked me if I wanted to go down to his pick-up to get something with him. I said, “No. You just went down to get it, remember?”

He said, “Oh. That’s right.”

I continued to chatter and carry a conversation with a very quiet Calvin. I always resented when A.K. chanted “Jane Chatterbox” on the playground in third grade instead of Jane Chadwick, but that night I deserved it.

When there was finally a lull in the one-sided banter, Calvin asked if maybe I’d just like to go outside with him since I didn’t want to go down to the pick-up. I told him it was nice and warm where we were, but we could go outside if he really wanted to. He did. We did.

We stood just outside our door near the railing of our second story apartment. I huddled between my arms to stay warm and Calvin just stood there. We stared straight ahead. If he’d have had a pitchfork and we’d have had a white farm house behind us I have no doubt we could have been stand ins:

Except we were smiling. And my teeth were chattering.

Finally after a long time Calvin said, “It’s a loooong way down to the ground from here.”

I said, “Oh no, it really isn’t. It makes Brother Millet (our landlord) mad if we land in the flowerbeds, but sometimes when we’re late for class we just hop over the rail and jump to the ground.”

Calvin said, “Oh.”

Long pause.

Calvin said, “It looks like all the leaves have fallen off the tree.”

Now that was an odd statement, almost as odd as “it’s not good for man to be alone.” It was February 9th for goodness sake and trees should be bare. But, when I looked at the tree, to my surprise, there were still a few leaves curled and clinging. It was only appropriate I point that out. “No. Look. There are still some left.”

Calvin said, “Oh.”

Another long pause.

He continued with a wave of his hand, “But they are all falling down.”

“Yes. Yes. I guess they do fall . . . d.o.w.n.” I agreed.

Yet another long pause. Though the snow was falling and looked beautiful in the lamplight, it was getting rather cold and the conversation wasn’t stimulating enough to keep me warm. I hinted we go back inside. Calvin tried to revive the conversation, “The snow is sure getting deep.”

I’m not certain, but I think I countered that it indeed it was starting to accumulate but that it really couldn’t be considered deep yet, but that maybe it would be by tomorrow morning.

Calvin responded, “But it sure is getting deep out there,” and pointed to the edge of our apartment complex lawn. And then I saw it. Finally. Written in the snow were the words, “Will you marry me?”

This time I didn’t argue. Not one bit. But gentleman that he is, Calvin still gave me the last word.

When did you get engaged? Did you see it coming?