Life After Life

While I was in Oregon, my mom's friend dropped off a book for her to read. If there is one thing I do on vacation besides exercise, yoga, eating, and drinking, it's read. So I began to read the book, called "Life After Life" by Kate Atkinson. It's hard to get into, mainly because there are a million jumps in time in the story. The basic premise is that this girl lives and dies, over and over. In one flash, she dies at birth. Then the next chapter begins with her overcoming a difficult birth, only to catch a cold and die a few weeks later. The chapter after that picks up a few months into her life. Does this make sense? As this girl grows, she dies. Over and over. Always with a second chance afterwards. The point of the story being that she eventually becomes aware she has lived and died, many, many times, and as such, she tries to change the future. It's an amazing book if you can stick with it.

Every time she dies, she later wakes up just after dying. In the same situation in which she died, its just the second time around, she always makes a different decision in the situation. For example, in one flash, she goes downstairs upon hearing her family's maid return from a protest late at night. It turns out the maid catches the Spanish flu at the protest, and gives the flu to the entire family, killing some members. Including the main character. After the main character's death, she then wakes up in her bed, hearing the maid coming home from the protest. Instead of going downstairs this time, she is filled with horrible dread, and pulls the covers over her head to hide. She does not go downstairs.

The whole book is a collection of decisions, and then immediately, shows what would happen if the main character had made a different decision. Isn't that a fascinating concept?

I read this about a month ago, so I've had ample time to ponder the ideas planted by the book. I've often thought my self-destructive path should have ended in death. Perhaps a few decisions made differently would have meant that. I believe my husband has been one of the best decisions I've made, and I believe without him, I probably would be dead. He's the only one who got me to pause in my path, leave the path, and attempt to find a new one.

There was a moment, almost 10 years ago, when he called me for the first time. I almost didn't answer the phone. I watched it ring at least 7 times before I answered it. I stared at that old school Nokia phone, playing Eminem's "Shake That". Because I was scared. I did answer the phone, right before it went to voicemail. But, what if I hadn't answered it?

I was dating someone else at the time my husband and I met. I was in one of my typical, atrociously chosen relationships. He was 13 years older than me, an alcoholic with 2 DUI's under his belt (along with a jail stint), a 16-year old daughter to my 23 years, and he was married. What the fuck was I thinking? At any rate, that relationship could have been the end of me. If I had chosen him, I know I would have kept drinking until one day I would inevitably drink too much. I had no business dating a married man. He told me he was separated, but looking back on the situation, we only met in hotels. Now that I'm no longer a child, I see this was likely a lie and he was having an affair on his wife. I was so naive at the time though, I believed him. Children have absolutely no understanding of the complexity of relationships, especially marriage. Fortunately I answered that phone call, started dating my husband, and eventually, chose my husband over the married man.

There was another moment, probably 9 years ago, right after my husband and I had started dating. As I mentioned before, I was 23 when I met my husband, fresh out of college. I was still living the club-kid lifestyle. While I was in college, I took a job at a bank and I stayed with it after I graduated. After I graduated from college, the bank wanted to put me through a banker program which I happily accepted. In banker school, I met a woman who was probably a little too much like myself. We were immediately drawn to each other, and before I knew it, we were drinking gallons of vodka every weekend. We were at a club one January,  me, her, and my future husband. She told me she was going to go do coke in the bathroom, did I want any?

What a pivotal moment in my life. A fork in the road. The husband-to-be greatly influenced my decision and got me to say no, and for that, I believe I am alive. I have an addictive personality, and a dark passenger. If I had tried the coke, who knows where it may have stopped. My guess would be with a needle in my arm and a heart that no longer beats. One path led to life. One path was inevitably leading to death. How in the world did I choose the correct fork in the road?

Which all leads me to an incredibly frightening experience that happened 2 days ago.

I'd wanted to go walking. The hubby wanted to get a haircut. So, he dropped me off at my usual spot and he was going to come pick me up when he was done. I'd walked a quarter mile when a man in light blue SUV drove by me. It kind of gave me the creeps, so after about 30 seconds I turned around. The man was turning his SUV around where the road is big enough for cars to park, where the hubby dropped me off. I felt weird, but kept walking. He drove past me again, and drove about a quarter of a mile ahead and turned off the road. I watched him turn his car around, park, and just sit there. Soon, I walked past him, just hanging out in his car. I kept walking. The further I walked, the more panic gripped my insides. With every step, it felt like my innards were turning to jello. Then my legs started to shake. My mind was screaming, "CALL A! CALL A!"

I tried to tell myself I was being paranoid and to keep walking. But I couldn't. The place where I walk is an abandoned road that runs right next to the highway. I got to a place in the road that was highly visible to the highway and stopped. I turned around. The man had gotten out of his car and was walking behind me. He seemed to be in his 20's, maybe 30's. He had blondish-brown hair that was slightly longer than a buzz cut, wearing a blue t-shirt, black shorts, and blue compression socks. He had a creepy look, or at least my hyper-vigilance told me so. As soon as I turned around, so did he. He walked quickly back to his car, around a small bluff. I couldn't see him anymore.

I called A. as fast as I could.

"I'm having a panic attack. Can you come back and get me?" I said breathlessly. "Hurry!"

Hurry, he did. A. was about 9 miles away, but he turned the car around. I asked him to stay on the phone with me while I kept an eye out for the man. My whole body was shaking, my hands tightened reflexively around my water bottle, filled with ice and water. It would be heavy enough to swing at the man, and then I would jump the fence and get in the highway. Luckily, it never came to that. After a couple of minutes, his car pulled out in the other direction. He drove to end of the road, and turned left.

Just then, A. pulled on to the road and drove towards me. I jumped in the car and asked if he'd seen the man. Turns out the guy just turned left, pulled over, and parked. When we got to the end of the road, the man turned back on to the road and slowly began to drive back down. A. and I gave him the hard stare-down as he passed us, then we just looked at each other. Had he been trying to make me think he left so I would keep walking? We'll never know.

I stayed in the car, trying to calm myself while A. got his haircut.

Thoughts swirled. I felt extremely anxious, unsafe. My mind had already gone to this book, thinking about what had just happened to me. What was it that led me to feeling that awful, awful dread? What turned my legs to jello and panic to jettison throughout my body? Could I just be picking up "vibes" given off by this guy? Or could it be something more?

Chances are, this encounter was nothing.

But what if it was everything? What if this was a fork in the road and I had absolutely no idea? What if I had kept walking? What if he had come up behind me, attacked me, kidnapped me, or killed me?

I'm still feeling quite unsafe. But later that night, I sat and stared into my rescue dog's eyes. There could be a world where neither of us existed. What if I hadn't seen his picture on that rescue site, and emailed them? What if his foster mother hadn't seen and replied to my application? What if the shelter where his previous parents dropped him off had euthanized him?

And, what if I hadn't called A? What if I hadn't gotten myself out of that situation?

What if me and my rescue dog had never locked eyes? Never got to cuddle together watching "How I Met Your Mother" while the hubby works the night shift? Because, what if he wasn't there? What if I wasn't there? And so we sat there, staring at each other, one of us feeling love, the other feeling like there was a chance this moment might never have happened.

It's safe to say I won't be walking by myself down there. Ever again. This incident has been haunting.