The enormous impact of seemingly trivial decisions



The enormous impact of seemingly trivial decisions A few years ago, Sandy and I were taking a hike in the San Bruno mountains, in a last minute decision we decided to stop at a nearby Trader Joes on our way home. As we were approaching a large intersection, an out of control car came speeding through, crashing into several vehicles, including the one just in front of us. If we had been seconds ahead, we would have been seriously injured or possibly killed. Seconds. As we sat there stunned, surrounded by sirens and wreckage, I couldn’t help the thoughts swirling through my mind. Had we walked any faster, if I hadn’t stopped to pee, if we zigged when we could have zagged, could we have been in the intersection when the crash happened? Have you ever considered how being in the right place at the right time or a small decision that feels inconsequential at the time, can have an enormous impact on your life's path. Perhaps selecting a certain class in college, where you meet someone who becomes an important friend. That person introduces you to your husband, or helps you get a job...etc. Is it random? Are there some karmic forces at work? I find it fascinating. Today, August 28th is our 37th wedding anniversary. It got me pondering about all the factors that were involved in my meeting Sandy. I grew up in Pittsburgh, He was from New York. I was a year younger. We weren’t simply likely to run into each other. We officially met on an airplane going from Kennedy airport to Israel on September 2nd, 1976. I was seventeen. Sandy likes to tell the story of how he spotted me in line behind him and asked the agent. “ Do you see that little red head a few people back? Can you please put her next to me?" Back in the olden days, there were no computers assigning seats. Instead there was a diagram of the seating chart with little stickers. The agent was happy to help and when I got to the front of the line, he took the sticker next to Sandy’s seat and put it on my boarding pass. The rest is history. So, how is it that we were both on that same flight?  On my end, this path started several years earlier with my brilliant friend Steven B. He was my classmate at a private Jewish Day School back in Pittsburgh, PA. I didn’t love the school, but was content enough, coasting along, surrounded by good friends. Steven was much more serious minded. Religion was one of the subjects that was taught. We were in 10th grade when it occurred to Steve that if you believe in God and God gives you commandments, then you are a fool if you don’t follow them all. You can’t pick and choose. Steven began to live his life trying his best to adhere to the letters of the law. His baffled parents probably didn’t know quite what to make of it. The rabbis were thrilled. They considered him a bit of a trophy student. And then one day, Steven came up with some inconsistencies that in his mind, “disproved” the possibility of the existence of God. He sat debating with the rabbis for hours, but they weren’t able to give him the answers he sought. It didn’t seem to occur to any of them that faith isn’t something that anyone can prove or disprove, but that isn’t what this post is about. He was done being in that school and wanted out. Two more years seemed like an eternity. With the same energy that Steve had been putting into following the rules, he now put into relishing his freedom. Indeed, he figured out a system. It turned out that all that was missing to graduate after 3 years was just one English credit. He convinced some of his best friends, myself included, to chip in to hire a teacher for one after-school class and we could all graduate after 11th grade and skip our senior year. I was all for it. My parents were supportive. The school was horrified. This was a private school and losing a dozen kids was not something they were happy about, but there was little that they could do other than change the rules, so that future students couldn’t avail themselves of that option. But, I was out after 3 years of high school. I was accepted and deferred to nursing school at the University of Pittsburgh and decided to spend a gap year doing an organized program called “year course” in Israel. That was what got me to the airport that day. Sandy was there because a dear friend of his convinced him to do the same program. Organized “anything” wasn’t (and still isn't) Sandy’s typical modus operandi. This was a big shift for him. I am somehow convinced that he was there because we were meant to meet. The first week we were all on a kibbutz. We were being assigned to various relatively menial jobs. The question was posed, “Does anyone here know how to drive a tractor?” Really? We were a group of urban kids who had just graduated high school. A tractor? But there was Sandy (who was raised in NYC and had never been on a tractor, thank you very much), who had no interest in cleaning up after livestock, or picking olives, raising his hand! He faked it well, thankfully without harming himself or others. He mastered it quickly and absolutely loved getting to know the real ins and outs of the kibbutz. I ended up picking olives.  In fact, after realizing that this organized program was not for him, he bowed out and left the program after about a month. We remained together on the kibbutz for several months, before I headed off for other parts of the country; Sandy stayed behind riding his tractor, and became an adopted "member" of the kibbutz. But our connection had been made and was set! Sandy and I spent seven years in a long distance relationship before we ended up getting married. During those years I was back in Pittsburgh. Sandy was at Cornell, then Boston and then NYC. That was before cell phones. I remember waiting for our nightly call at 11:01 pm when the rates would go down. Of course, there were turbulent times peppered throughout. If any couple tells you that things are always easy, then they are either delusional or they are lying. Relationships take work. Sandy and I got through the choppy waters to a place that I wish for all of you. Complete trust, lots of laughing, lots of love, respect and actual deep friendship. We also are comfortable with the fact that we are very different and have many varied interests. If I want to go to a musical, or do a "Sound of Music" tour in Salzburg, Sandy won’t be the person that I bring with me, any more than he would bring me on his mountain climbs. We are okay with that! He remains my perfect travel companion. I can't wait until we can get back to more adventures. So if you are reading this? If I hadn’t met Sandy, I would not have moved to San Francisco. Honestly I may have stayed in Pittsburgh. I would not have answered a little ad in the paper that I happened to randomly see, on a day that I was half heartedly thinking it might be nice to get a job that wasn’t hospital based, thus ending up at Noe Valley Pediatrics. While working at Noe, during the H1N1 crisis 12 years ago, a mom in the practice encouraged me to start blogging in order to give up to date information on the availability of the vaccine; and this blog was born. For all of you who made lifelong friendships when you met each other at my baby boot camp sessions, think of all the little forces at play. I look at our kids, who are such a combination of both Sandy and me, and bless those forces that got us together and helped us navigate the bumps. Steven may have disproved the standard biblical God, but for me, I think there were some divine powers at work.