It was somewhere that looked like the Australian Outback, many years after she had taken her own life. Jennifer opened the door and had no idea who the man was, standing before her. “May I help you,” Jennifer asked weakly. “Hi, I was in the area and dropped by to say hello,” said the handsome wanderer. Jennifer’s eyes ran up and down the man standing on her front porch and tried to make a connection. ”Many years ago we met briefly. Do you remember?” asked the stranger. He looked to be in his mid fifties, very attractive with dark wavy hair to contrast his piercing blue eyes. “We met one time, back when you were in high school. You were sitting in the hallway reading ‘The Catcher in the Rye.‘ The bell rang and I reached out my hand to help you up . It was only for a moment, but the connection was powerful.” Jennifer stood in her doorway confused and dazed. She vividly remembered the encounter, she even could picture the scene in her head. Jennifer remained silent but continued to listen to the man who had just stepped into her life again talk. “It turns out I was the one you missed. Each soul has a mate, but there is no guarantee that they will find each other on earth. We bumped into each other but it must been the wrong time. Before you arrived here one of the questions you asked was had you found the partner you were suppose to have on earth.“ He was right, Jennifer had posed the question to her handlers. ”Please go away and leave me alone.” Jennifer had her answer, still, she shut the door on what could have been.
Jennifer is a character in a television program. In the scene she was residing in some version of heaven, or quite possibly purgatory. Several years ago she committed suicide shortly after both her children were killed in a car accident. During the interview process for acceptance into heaven she was allowed to ask questions about things she was unable to get answers to during her time on earth. As a person who is not a believer in the life after, the story line intrigued me. If there is a world beyond this one, wouldn’t it be great to have an opportunity to clear up some nagging questions that were never answered in the living years. What unlocked secrets would we be most interested in discovering? Who killed JFK? Whatever happened to D.B.Cooper? What happened to all those planes lost in the Bermuda Triangle? Is there life on other planets? Did Anastasia escape the executioners noose? Who kidnapped JonBenet Ramsey? Did Moses really part the seas? Those are universal questions that provide plenty of lively conversation. But what if you could ask questions directly related to your personal history? The conundrums that had gnawed at us for a lifetime. What if you got to resolve some questions you wrestled with on earth before they decided your fate in a place between heaven and hell. A sort of a waiting period, during which the answers to your questions are revealed by a higher power. What would you being dying to know?
I only knew him toward the end of his life. He spent most of his time laying on a couch in a third floor apartment that was part of a larger house located on Fremont Street in Peekskill NY. I don’t recall ever having a conversation with him or spending more than five minutes in his presence. I do remember him always being under a blanket watching television. There was usually a pack of cigarettes and a empty TV dinner dish within reach. Charles Davis Vail died in his sleep on that sofa, the year was 1968. It wasn’t until many years had passed that my mom and dad told me my grandpa’s story. “When I was little we had a lot of money and lived in a mansion. My father’s family was wealthy, we owned five roller skating rinks and half of the real estate in Peekskill,” my mother would go on. “Your grandfather was a gambler, drinker and philanderer. He lost every penny we had at the horse track. Grandma had to go back to school and get her teaching certificate so we could pay the bills. Still, I loved him very much,” my mother was usually in tears by that point of the story. “He was a great guy,” my father would always chirp in, ”he was club champion in both golf and tennis at the Powelton Club. He was a smooth dresser, with a smoother tongue,” my dad would continue. While in life we didn’t talk, after his death and throughout my life I had many one way conversations with my grandfather. He never answered back but he was a great listener. He doesn’t know it but he helped me through many a difficult spot. When and if my day of judgment comes I will ask the powers to be if I can talk to him. I want to know what it is like living for eternity with his mistakes . There are no “do-overs” but there is regret. I want to know if he was able to see me as I experienced my trials and tribulations. Mostly I would want to tell him that my Grandma and mother forgave him. I hope he has already talked to them both.
The back row of pews at the Saint Joseph Church were starting to fill up. For a Thursday morning at 6:30 am God’s business was bustling. Most of the crowd was probably comprised of “regulars” squeezing their rosary beads. These were definitely people who did not take a day off from the Lord’s good word. Not much different than the “shot and beer” guys who would never dream of missing a day at the local watering hole. Despite the rampant sexual scandals and weathered ideals, Catholicism was still selling well in Kingston NY. Scanning the sanctuary I noticed two men, both of whom had reputations as religious fanatics. From the stories I had heard these gentlemen were faithful in taking in the lord daily and spent the rest of their day judging the minions in town. I admit that seeing them, and the throngs of others, at the crack of dawn, gave me an extremely queasy feeling. What if God was taking attendance? All the “regulars” would definitely have a heads up on me at the pearly gates. Not only did they show up to the house of god religiously but they could recite scripture. Although not a believer, I enjoy reading the good book. One of my favorite passages is “judge not lest you be judged.” If there should actually be a day of reckoning, I will have my own questions and judgments prepared. Do non-baptized children get into heaven? If I eat meat on a Friday am I still in.? What about if I had sex before I was married? I have told more than one lie in my life…in or out? Do all the priests who inappropriately touched children receive absolution? I would need to hear the direct answers to those questions before accepting my invitation to nirvana.
Early January, of this year was the last time I saw my daughters together. Mary Kate and Laura were raised to understand there comes a time to fly away from their parents. This plan may have been taken too far, too fast, because even though neither one has completed college they are both practically and figuratively gone. I do understand we are parents for as long as we live, still I am convinced children morph into parents of both their own children and their parents. These days my girls merely pass through my life for only hours at a time. They are off to semesters abroad, internships, summer jobs, boyfriends’ houses, field hockey practice, the gym, and just about any place they feel like.
I was never much of a disciplinarian, even to the chagrin of Mary Kate, who sometimes will quietly plead for my parenting. “Dad it is too late for you to start acting like a parent,” she recently said after I threatened to lay down the law. I readily admit I have not given my kids enough tough love. For 21 years my main priority has been to garner the affirmation, respect, and confidence of my daughters. If I ever do arrive in the next world their judgment, not any Deity’s, will be all that matters to me. I would tell God to please let me hear the eulogy Mary Kate and Laura recite in their head. I am aware my children know I am a flawed man, but will they forgive and overall deem me worthy? Did I give them every opportunity to make a happy life for themselves? Were they aware of how much I loved them? Did I set a good example for the way a man should act as a husband and a father? Did I put my children ahead of myself? If my daughters can give a yes answer to most of these questions I will rest peacefully no matter what God has to say about it.
Jennifer was not prepared to hear something that contaminated the imagery and brought into question the choices she had made. The man she was suppose to be with had gotten away, she had missed him, they had missed each other. Possibly, because she took her own life she was stuck forever in purgatory and didn’t have a choice in what was going to be exposed. Maybe she was doomed to the hell of living with the pain of never facing her fate. She was left to think about what she had experienced during her living years and how little she had taken control. Will any of us want a choice after we are gone to know if we even had a destiny, let alone whether we fulfilled it. To really know if you made the right choices or you just lived a life that happened to you and that was all there was. We all eventually come to a point where we question the path we have taken. Did I find the vocation that was my passion? Did I accomplish what I wanted to? Did I find my soul mate? Did my children believe I did my best as a parent? Most of us don’t want to hear the answer to these questions? Perhaps there are no answers. Somewhere in the outback, in the gap between reality and regret Jennifer got an answer. He was standing at her door in the flesh. It was too late. Jennifer shut the door that had opened just a crack all those years ago. She was going to stay where she was. There would be no going back, her past was irretrievably lost.
