PLAN F COMES BEFORE PLAN B

by Lia Hempel

She and I never called each other by our given names. Whenever we met in the hall or elsewhere at work, our standard greeting to each other was always, “Hello, my friend,” and then we’d laugh and move on. It had all started one night when she and I were both working late, in two different departments, at opposite ends of the office. She trekked the miles to my area and said, “Lia, my friend, can you help me?” and I teasingly shot back a “Yea, I’m you’re friend now — when you need help. Yesterday, you didn’t even know my name.” We laughed, I helped her, and we’ve been “my friend” to each other ever since.

Last night, while washing my hands at the sink in the ladies room, not realizing anyone else was there, I suddenly heard, “Goodbye, my friend.” Not looking up, I responded, “Till tomorrow.” And then I heard back, “Till forever.”

“What?”

“Yes, I’ve been let go.” She said.

Turning around without yet looking up, I saw that her hands were holding two plastic shopping bags filled with the contents of her personal items from her desk. Here she was — another casualty of the economy, the third middle-aged woman from our office that had been let go in the past two days; the latest in the string of middle-aged women laid off, retired, let go, fired, since the economy nose-dived last year.

Most of us know that it could be ourselves that are suddenly faced with dragging home the contents of our desks in plastic bags. Blogs, talk shows, magazines, and newspaper articles tell us to have Plan B in place -– a survival plan, a reinvention plan for these times. But the truth of Plan B is that, for many of us, there is no Plan B. Struggling day to day to find the funds for the basic necessities of life: food, clothing, shelter and health care, there is little time to reinvent ourselves, little energy and clear presence of mind to stop and think of what Plan B could possibly be. And, a harsher, clearer reality is that if my cute, intelligent, college educated, twenty-five year old niece with work experience cannot find a job because there are truly no jobs to be had, what can a sixty-year old expect?

“I’m so sorry, “ I said. “What are you going to do?”

“Not to worry,” she said. “God will take care. My husband has health benefits. Goodbye, my friend, I’ll be in touch.”

So simply she stated what is truly essential in times like these: Plan F. Friends, family and faith. Have Plan F, or whatever component of Plan F is present in your life, be the foundation of all of your plans. My friend already has Plan F in place. All else flows from there. I know she’ll be okay.