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In that same train of thought. I've been trying to get my husband life insurance for about a month and a half now. For various reasons he's not as insurable as I'd like. He is in underwriting, to use the jargon. I know too many women who's husband died between 36 and 44, suddenly and without warning. It may sound mercenary to think of insurance but I work in the business. A friend (for whom I found work for with the same company) find ourselves in the strange position of knowing a great deal about something we had no interest in knowing and we were discussing that if our husbands died without insurance (and vice a versa) we would have only ourselves to blame. Although I know uninsured insurance salesmen/women. Strange.

What's irrational is my belief that somehow if I get him insured I likewise gain him some protection. Like carrying an umbrella will stave off rain. I went nearly 10 years without apartment insurance and yet in the month between filing and receiving the paperwork I nearly developed OCD--double checking stove tops and irons. And now that I am insured I do neither, though many things are irreplaceable. As is my husband. And no amount of insurance would make his loss bearable. I also know that I am not the only person to feel that insurance means that the fates will pass you by.

The fates turn on whom they turn. That's the business of being human.


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