lola guerrero

50-something empty-nest-search-for-God-and-happiness with more than a dash of humor

Plan B

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There’s this production company called
Plan B. It’s got a catchy name. I like it.

Sometimes I hear let’s do Plan A and if that doesn’t
work, let’s skip to Plan B.

Is there a Plan C? I want to say No, it doesn’t exist.
Just PLAN on going back to bed and call it a day.

When I was in my 20s, I was busy planning while
my life was unfolding in front of my eyes. I had no plans
of having a baby or getting married. Of enrolling with
AETNA medical plan, buying a split level home, and getting life insurance. Being sleep deprived and having a Costco card.

All the above was God’s Plan A  not mine.

My Plan A was absolutely no babies and no husband
until I built my very own thriving litigation practice
downtown with a corner office facing the water.  My
wardrobe consist of Prada suits, shoes, and purses.
The law firm never came to fruition nor did the Prada suits.

Now at 50-something, I turn the pages of yesterday.
Knowing what I know now, God’s Plan A for me was just
right. I had the best time. I enjoyed my boys. They filled me up.
I had peace in my heart as a stay home mom.
I laughed with them and cried.  I remember crying along with
Ralph inside the clinic  as he was getting 14  stitches on his right leg.
He was 10 years old. Ouch!

I know I couldn’t keep up a demanding career plus raise outstanding
citizens of the U.S. of A.  When I learned I was pregnant there was no back door. I can say this–I can’t imagine life without them. I love them to pieces.

A voice calls out “Lola, what now? The boys are grown and live so far away that it seems they are at the North Pole.”

I respond to no one. “Don’t you think I know that? They live so far! Is it something I said?”

My mind play tricks on me as I rinse the morning  dishes.

My head is up. I force a smile and my eyes look
straight ahead.  My mantra everyday is
I say it 20 times in the morning. By noon, I have  jolts of doubts that sound like this:
Oh . . . I don’t know. God is moving real slow about this. Things should
have happened by now. I better if I do it myself.
I try to open doors and they won’t open.
I crawl to a basement window. It has bars.
I meditate, pray, fast, journal, go to church to light
candles. I’m gentle and kind to my ailing relatives.
I give to our local  food bank. I pay my taxes on time.
I’m an outstanding citizen.
I’m a saint of the Pacific Northwest.
Still . . . dense fog lingers around me, what’s the deal-io here?

I go back to my mantra, REMAIN OPEN. GOD HAS

Turn back the pages of your yesterday.  What was your Plan A?
Let’s pray.

Dear God, I know you can hear me. Thank you for my brain cells
and voice to call out and say, “REMAIN OPEN. GOD HAS AWESOME PLANS FOR ME.”

I desire to do GOOD on this planet. If I’m going to take up space,
let it be with excitement and energy that has my name on it.
Bless me with confidence and cast out doubts. Give me a sign
that your are for me–with me and not against me.  Amen.


Author: lolaguerrero

50 something, mother of two, married, grandson named Napoleon. Love to go to the gym, watch films, act, write, jog, walk 10 miles with my husband, wine and travel. I"m a double tall, NF latte with half a pump of mocha with whip cream.

One thought on “Plan B

  1. Pingback: Plan B | lolaguerrero

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