Plan B

I’m not sure where I first heard the phrase, “Always have a plan B,” but whether it was on a television show or from an older adult, the axiom is how I’ve built my life. When I was in grammar school and didn’t want to do my homework, my favorite plan B was to go to the teacher before class started and explain that I tried to do the assignment, but I just wasn’t getting it, and could they please explain it to me again? This excuse was so much better than, “My dog ate my homework.”

I played quarterback on our high school football team. It was my plan B moves that made me a successful one. The coach would send in a play that I was sure wasn’t going to work, but I would call it anyway. As we broke the huddle, I would call over one of my trusted receivers and tell him that I was actually going to pass him the ball. We won many of our games using one of my plan B’s.

My time spent in the Air Force offered me limited opportunities to exercise any plan B’s. Every day was a cookie-cutter, wash, rinse, and repeat type of existence. It wasn’t until I rejoined the civilian world that my need for alternative solutions resumed. The car wouldn’t start one day, and I needed to get to work. Before renting my apartment, I had located the closest bus stop just in case I needed a cheap ride somewhere. The car may have let me down, but not my backup plan. I got to work with time to spare.

Life continued to flow along with very few glitches, and when I ran into one of those, there was always a plan B to help me through it, until I met Gladys. It was impossible to have a backup plan for her. Her real name had to have been chaos because that’s what followed her wherever she went. It’s said that opposites attract, and like a magnet to steel, we were drawn to each other from our first encounter, which happened to be trying to enter the doorway to a local deli at the same time. I came in looking for a pastrami sandwich and left with the love of my life.

Gladys was the yin to my yang. If I wanted to stay home and watch TV, she wanted to go party. If I planned to go out for dinner, she would come home with her arms loaded with groceries to cook for supper. I gave up looking for the ideal vacation spot because my choice was never part of her plan. My plan B became whatever she said, and if her chaotic approach to life occasionally backfired, I would be Gladys’s plan B that would put us back on track.

My life continued along this discombobulated path for the next thirty-five years until the night it ended. We had stopped by our favorite deli for take-out. It was a place that always caused us to smile and share a quick kiss. Uncharacteristically, Gladis looked up at me with sadness in her eyes, gripped my arms, and said, “Thank you for thirty-five wonderful years,” and crumbled to the floor.

An ambulance arrived within minutes, but I knew it was already too late. Our life together began impulsively and ended the same way. I sit in my recliner, in front of a turned-off TV, trying to come up with a plan B that would have averted this tragic ending, but nothing ever comes to mind. My only solace is that, like a magnet to steel, we will find each other somewhere in the future.