The What ifs of Life

My Dad said it best once. “The ifs can kill ya kid.” What the heck does that mean you ask? We all travel down the road of asking meaningful questions about our lives, call it a mid life crisis, call it self reflection, call it becoming self obsessed. The bottom line is as we get older, we all, at one point or another wonder what if I would have…
Recently I had coffee with a great friend only to learn that she too has said, “what if…” She asked me a tough question which sparked this blog. She asked, “Do you have any regrets about your life?” I didn’t even flinch when I responded, “Yes, I am human.” She continued to tell me her struggles and without revealing our conversation it was as if she opened my head and spilled it out onto the table. I am happy to reveal my thoughts on the subject.
Most of my friends are in the same age group. We all range in our mid to late thirties to forty’s. I think part of the reason we travel down the “what if” road is that we are getting older. We have kids; we all have been married for longer than ten years. We start to question our meaning in all of the carpools, sporting events for our kids, the financial sacrifices with raising families. The question of the day is, is it all worth it?
My friend and I both share one other thing in common on this subject. We have both given up careers and dreams to stay at home and raise our kids. In today’s world most moms’ now work. We are in a minority here. Like my friend, I ask myself what the heck I have to show for myself. I am college educated and worked for eight years before my son was born. I was just getting started when my husband and I decided day care wasn’t the way we wanted our son to grow up. This debate can be seen on any daytime talk show; stay at home mother’s versus working moms, but that is not the main idea of this article.
After my coffee date I started to think about what I’d be doing if I hadn’t been a hopeless romantic and married my husband. Instantly I envisioned myself as a famous writer living in Chicago or maybe Manhattan. I could see my large apartment, decorated perfectly, overlooking the city. I dreamed of a walk in closet as large as my current bedroom filled with Prada shoes and designer suits all color coded. I saw myself being picked up each day by a Town-car and driving to my high rise office only to dine at the finest restaurants during my lunch hour. After my fabulous lunch my Town-car would drop me off at Harpo Studios where I would have a one on one interview with Oprah regarding my new best seller. During this day-dream I almost crashed into a car ahead of me, but that’s another blog.
Last week I turned forty four. During a celebratory drink with my husband and brother- in- law another question was thrown at me. “What would you be doing if you weren’t married to my brother?” asked my brother- in- law. I told him my latest daydream about being a writer in Chicago. “Yes,” he answered. “But you’d be so lonely.” Perhaps, but I still couldn’t quite let go of the bedroom sized closet full of goodies.
This week I had an epiphany all related to the “what ifs.” I was teaching an Intense Speech and Learning Kindergarten class. One of kids was severely disabled. She had the mentality of a three year old but was placed with five to six year olds in the program. While she was delayed and had a learning problem I couldn’t help but think that her life at home was probably not what my own kids had experienced. I don’t know for sure but I suspect after working with kids that there was very little interaction with her parents at home. I suspected that no one had worked with her at all. While I was busy teaching my kids their alphabet and numbers before kindergarten I felt that no one had even attempted to do these basics with her. Her clothes were dirty and she spit at the class to get attention. She clearly had some learning disabilities and just because someone is dirty doesn’t mean their parents don’t take care of them, but still call it instinct.
On a personal level I know about learning disabilities because my own son was delayed with speech and needed services for that as well as occupational therapy as he couldn’t write his ABCs. The difference between my own son and this little girl seemed obvious to me. Although my son was also developmentally delayed, the one noticeable difference was that he could do basic things for himself that I had taught him. He had instruction at home on how to pick up his toys and how to tie his shoes, basic responsibilities that I had demanded from him at home. I felt that this little girl had no structure at home and had not been held accountable for anything including tantrums; it was as if her parents just wanted the school do everything. Again just an opinion, call it an instinct because I didn’t have access to her file as a substitute teacher.
The epiphany was that I realized the importance of the role I had with my own kids as their mother. I was able to teach them things at home and hold them accountable for their actions. I truly believe that the connection between home and school is vital for my kid’s education. I’ve seen first hand as a substitute teacher what the kids that don’t have a good home life can be like. I realized my value again as a person who had given up a career and decided my family was important. I realized that yes it has really all been worth it! This is not a put down by any means on any woman who works and raises a family because I am in fact that woman now; at least part time. This is just a realization that I personally made the right decision years ago.
The bottom line is that no matter what path life takes you we all question and that is okay. I only hope that like myself when you get to the answer you can smile. Ironically enough my husband works for MetLife. Do you know what their slogan is? Buy MetLife for the “Ifs” in Life. I guess we really are meant to be.

More from new story... Food is Love

“Please stand for our Recessional Hymn, Celtic Song of Farewell,” the choir director said. I couldn’t understand why Aunt Deb picked a Celtic song.

***
There was a quiet hum as we gathered towards the back of the church; different groups were waiting to say hello to Dad and Aunt Deb. I spotted Grandma’s next door neighbor Sara, whom we had known for years. Sara had spent many mornings around Grandma’s kitchen table doing the coffee clutch thing. When we were still going to Grandma’s regularly Sara would always be over at one time or another discussing all the things you shouldn’t like politics or religion. Mostly she would complain about her husband Jack who died last year shoveling the driveway.
“Hi Sara,” I said reaching my arms out to give her a hug.
“Rachel. How are you darling? Jessie so glad you made it home. We’ve missed seeing you,” Sara said. Jessie was always the favored. No one missed seeing me.
“Denver is far away, I wish I got back more often,” Jessie swooned. She was milking the Denver geography. The truth was Jessie avoided the family whenever she could.
“Your dad said that she died suddenly. Russell found her at the bottom of the stairs? How awful. Do they know for sure what happened?”
“The doctor thinks she had a heart attack but they won’t know for sure until the autopsy is done,” I said.
“Well it is a shame. I thought she was in pretty good health. I haven’t seen her too much lately. I’ve been helping my daughter and her husband.”
“How is Kelsey?” Jessie asked.
“She is doing fine. Her husband lost his job last year and they’ve been living with me until they get on their feet again. I don’t mind, it’s kind of nice having the kids there since Jack died. Your Grandma hasn’t talked to me too much since Jack passed away. She was mad at me for a while; said I shouldn’t have had him out in the snow shoveling like that.”
Leave it to Grandma to blame poor Sara for her husband’s death. They had been together thirty years and were a close couple. I chalked it up to another awkward moment. I was hoping there wouldn’t be too many more to come.
“Nice seeing you Sara,” I said motioning towards Dad and Father O’Connor. “I need to make my rounds. Come on Jess.”
I noticed Dad and Father O’Connor in deep conversation and I wondered what was going on. I looked towards the front entryway and realized what they were talking about. The parking lot was now covered in what looked like ten inches of snow and it was still falling.
“We are going to have to wait to go to the cemetery,” Father was saying to Dad. “The ground is too snow covered and with the ground frozen…”
The funeral director was standing there now also throwing in his two cents. He was tall and sickly thin with white hair. His skin was so translucent that you could see his blue veins sticking out. He had on an expensive dark suit but it was off somehow like he had dry cleaned it one too many times. Dad had nicknamed him the crypt keeper and rightly so.
“What’s going on Dad?” I said as I approached the group.
“Who are these lovely creatures?” The funeral director said eyeing Jessie and me. His smile was even creepy. His teeth were so white. I envisioned the commercial with the Orbit gum girl with the gleaming white teeth.
“These are my daughters, Jessie and Rachel,” Dad said introducing us.
“It’s a pleasure, I’m Mr. Graves,” he smiled and his eye teeth stuck out. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two peppermint candies. Like we were going to take those, I thought. No way.
“What are we like ten?” I said sarcastically.
“You’ll have to excuse my daughter she is still grieving,” Dad shot me a look. Sharon stood by Dad looking mortified.
“I was just explaining to your parents that the ground is too frozen for the burial today. We will have to postpone the graveside service but we can still have the viewing at the funeral home. There is just too much snow right now too.
“Parent,” I said clarifying the crypt keeper. “My mother passed away two years ago. This is Sharon.”
“So sorry,” the crypt keeper said.
“Don’t mention it,” I said smirking.
“At any rate,” he continued, “Everyone should still plan on coming to the funeral home for the viewing. I realize the weather has taken a turn for the worse but we should still be able to fit it in.”
“I haven’t looked outside yet,” Dad said, “What’s it doing out there?”
“It’s really coming down,” I said. “It looks to me like more than six inches. The weather guy was saying we were probably going to get up to six inches but…”
“This wasn’t even called until just before Mass,” Dad said looking at Sharon.
Aunt Deb came over holding her cell phone to her ear. Father O’Connor gave her a look now, finally someone other than me. She ignored him and finished her call. The distraught look on her face said it all. “I just got off the phone with the caterers. They are not going to be able to make it over with the food today.”
“What do you need caterers for?” Dad said.
“In case you’ve forgotten, we have thirty people coming over after the viewing to eat and pay their respects.”
“Right, I just didn’t realize you hired a caterer Sis.”
“What’s the problem?” I asked.
“Their truck with four wheel drive broke down and they are worried about the storm. They said we could come and get the food but they wouldn’t be able to deliver.”
“I have four wheel-drive on the Subaru, Deb,” I said.
“Let me call back Alfonso and see if we can fit everything in the Subaru.”
“Alfonso? Where are you getting the food from?” I asked.
“Italians Are Us,” she said.
“What?” I said smiling.
“I couldn’t make that up Rachel,” she said walking out into the snow.
Father O’Connor made an announcement to everyone that we would still have the viewing but that the graveside service was cancelled until the storm was over. I was glad he made the announcement and not the creepy funeral director Mr. Graves.
“Where are Dakota and Darcy?” I asked. I noticed that they were no where in sight. People from the Mass were coming out and mingling in the small vestibule area, even though there were only around thirty people here it was creating some noise and confusion. Everyone was realizing that we were in the middle of a snow storm.
“You know kids, they are around somewhere,” Dad said starting to go back into the main part of the church.
“I’ll check the bathrooms,” Sharon said heading to the corner near the front doors of the church.
I followed Dad back into church looking around and then I spotted them. They were crawling around the floor towards the left corner of the church. Darcy was almost all the way underneath the pew and Dakota was sitting up in the seat. Lucy was standing over them humming.
“There you guys are,” I said. “We’ve been looking for you two.” I made eye contact with Dad who was on the other side of the church now. “Got em,” I tried to whisper.
“I let them play with my car from McDonald’s,” Lucy said smiling. “They were giving away carrrrrs,” she said dragging out the word. “I love carrrrs,” she said. I realized she was humming, I’m lov’in it, the McDonald’s theme.
“That’s great Lucy.”
“Yeah, Lucy is the best,” Dakota said grabbing the tiny matchbox from Darcy.
“STOP!” Darcy screamed.
“Darcy, you can’t yell in church,” I explained. With that I heard Aunt Ellen’s voice in the background.
“Where is she? She’s just like an eight year old. I can’t leave her for a second,” she bellowed.
“I think your mom is looking for you,” I said to Lucy.
“I like carrrs. I want to play with the boys. Tell her to go to hell,” Lucy said. It didn’t take too long to realize where she had learned her language. Aunt Ellen’s voice carried into the church and she was screaming at the top of her lungs now, “Where the hell is she!” I saw Dad scurry out the doors to find Aunt Ellen. Once again Aunt Ellen managed to cause a scene.
“Come on you three, there are people looking for you,” I said. “Time to go.” I pulled Darcy out from under the pew. “Party is over.”
“Party is over!” Lucy chimed.
We found our way out front again and Jessie made eye contact with me. Her eyes sparkled with relief when she came over and grabbed Darcy and Dakota. “So do you believe this? We are in the middle of an unpredicted Nor Easter. We can’t bury Grandma and people are bailing as fast as they can because of the snow. Grandma is probably orchestrating this storm with the gods today. That would be just like her to create drama,” Jessie said.
“Come on, Grandma is gone. She has nothing to do with this.”
“I know but she did seem to always attract unnecessary chaos at most of our family events. Remember the last family reunion at Dad’s cousin’s house? She showed up three hours early and told all of us to come then? Poor Betsy, she was so taken aback that we all showed up and nothing was ready.”
“Yeah remember the grand finale of her falling when she went to smoke a cigarette? The neighbors stood outside watching EMS testing Grandma for a concussion.”
“Grandma insisted that I get in and swim with Brian’s four year old before she fell. When I told her I didn’t have a swim suit she badgered Betsy to borrow one for me. I went to sit at Grandma’s table with Aunt Ellen and she had four swim suits which she held up in front of everyone. Meanwhile I had my period and really didn’t want to swim. The whole day was so embarrassing!” I said.
The crowd stood in the vestibule and some were talking to Dad about the viewing. Dad made an announcement then. “I want to thank everyone for coming today. I realize the weather has taken a turn. We will have a viewing at the funeral home. The funeral home is short drive from here on route 114 in Mechanicsburg. You are welcome to follow me or the name of the home is Malpezzi.”
While everyone contemplated what their next move was going to be I too was wondering why I volunteered to go pick up the food. I was a glutton for punishment sometimes. I made eye contact with Jessie again. “How far is it to the caterers?”
“ Aunt Deb said that it's not far,” she said. “It’s actually close to the funeral home. You could grab everything and then come to the funeral home.”
“What about keeping the stuff hot?” I asked.
“No, we can reheat everything when we get to the house. Deb asked them if they could prepare it that way since they couldn’t deliver.”
“If I’m going to do this I should go now. The snow is not letting up and we have a small window before everyone starts showing up at Malpezzi’s.”
“You sure you’re okay with this Rachel?”
“No, but I’ll survive. Plus I’m dying for a cigarette and if Dad sees me smoking he’ll have a fit.”
“I love you. Be careful, see you over there.”


The Subaru cranked up and I searched through my CDs to find the one that was just right. I pulled out Simon and Garfunkel’s greatest hits and forwarded to Sounds of Silence. I felt the heat kick in as I turned on the wipers. I sat watching the blades catch the snowflakes that were washed across my car window. I lit a Marlboro light and rolled down my window.
Driving was so therapeutic. I listened to the words of the song and took a deep drag off of my cigarette. I wondered if Grandma was up there somewhere, looking down on us right at this moment. I wondered if she was trying to scream something at us but we couldn’t hear, we were silent soldiers doing our best to get her buried but maybe she didn’t want to be, maybe she wanted to tell us one last thing.
The song screamed, ’Fools,’ said I, ‘you don’t know silence like a cancer grows.’ ‘Hear my words that I might teach you; take my arms that I may reach you.’ But my words like silent raindrops fell, and echoed in the wells of silence.’ I wondered if being dead was like being in a dream; you could see and hear everyone but they couldn’t see or hear you anymore.
Part of me did think that Grandma was responsible for this snow storm; she would never want a funeral like this. Aunt Deb had planned the whole event.She wouldn’t want any attention drawn to herself. She didn’t even like her picture taken. Aunt Deb had said that the casket would be closed and that there would be a picture of Grandma. But Aunt Deb couldn’t even find a current picture. The one that would be shown was of Grandma, before she was married; standing outside of the university she never graduated from.
Grandma had been one year from graduating when she became pregnant with my dad. This was one of the reasons Dad gave for her not being a happy person. Her dreams were forced to be let go of when she got pregnant. She was forced into marrying my grandfather and apparently he wasn’t her first choice.
As I was deep in thought my car spun around. I found myself struggling to keep the Subaru on the road and then as fast as I had spun around I was sliding backwards into a ditch. I tried to remember my driving rules; steer into the turn, no steer out of turn, I told myself. My car stopped and I was down below the road in a small ditch which left me no room to maneuver my way out, so much for four wheel drive.
I put the car in park and got out to assess the situation. I was a few feet from the road but the ditch was deep enough that I didn’t think I would be able to get out. In the back of my hatch I had a scraper which wouldn’t help me dig the snow out from under my wheel. I picked up my cell phone and dialed Jessie; no answer. I tried Dad’s cell phone and it also went to voice mail. I was just a few miles from the funeral home, on a fairly decent road back in a neighborhood, I decided to sit tight. Someone would see me.