Not fair
Late in the afternoon the third installment of 'let's bug the crud out of Mom by needling each other' broke out and I sent both kids to their rooms. Where they wailed. Could they be anymore dramatic? I ask in my very best Chandler voice. It's hard to say. But they get an A for effort.
They reappeared, meeker souls with dirty tear-streaked faces. The three of us decided to pick out some flicks, while Greg is out of town. They hopped on their scooters and I trailed along behind them up to Blockbuster.
After a minor miracle (agree on one movie my pretties), we came home with Everyone's Hero.
Now, I didn't have high expectations for this baseball movie and let me assure you, it stunk.
And I hate that it stunk. I kept this to myself - the kids didn't complain, eating popcorn, curled up on the couch with me. But it was Christopher and Dana Reeve's pet project - one that Christopher began and Dana never saw completed. Their friends finished it for them.
I can't write about the Reeves without tearing up. They faced tremendous, daily struggles, but came across as calm, peaceful, joyful. I can't dress myself somedays without pitching a fit; I whine about my husband being away, about my kids being twits. I'm sure they had bad days too. I just want a little more of what they had going on.
I remember the last interview with Dana, when it appeared she was winning her battle against lung cancer. She lit up the room. I was stunned when they announced her death, weeks later.
It wasn't fair. That's all I kept thinking. She was young, her son is now an orphan. It's not fair.
Not fair. Not fair. Not fair.
It's not very useful thinking, but I've had a serious case of wanting life to be fair. When I think about my little neighbor boy, D, and his meth-addicted Mom. When I think about life with a special needs child. When I watch the news.
Point your finger anywhere on the globe, and you'll find heartache - and it makes me feel helpless.
But I took something away from the corny little baseball movie Superman took under his cape:"No matter where life takes you, you keep swinging."
Can't hurt to keep trying.
Everyone'sHero ChristopherReeve DanaReeve fairness inspiration
They reappeared, meeker souls with dirty tear-streaked faces. The three of us decided to pick out some flicks, while Greg is out of town. They hopped on their scooters and I trailed along behind them up to Blockbuster.
After a minor miracle (agree on one movie my pretties), we came home with Everyone's Hero.
Now, I didn't have high expectations for this baseball movie and let me assure you, it stunk.
And I hate that it stunk. I kept this to myself - the kids didn't complain, eating popcorn, curled up on the couch with me. But it was Christopher and Dana Reeve's pet project - one that Christopher began and Dana never saw completed. Their friends finished it for them.
I can't write about the Reeves without tearing up. They faced tremendous, daily struggles, but came across as calm, peaceful, joyful. I can't dress myself somedays without pitching a fit; I whine about my husband being away, about my kids being twits. I'm sure they had bad days too. I just want a little more of what they had going on.
I remember the last interview with Dana, when it appeared she was winning her battle against lung cancer. She lit up the room. I was stunned when they announced her death, weeks later.
It wasn't fair. That's all I kept thinking. She was young, her son is now an orphan. It's not fair.
Not fair. Not fair. Not fair.
It's not very useful thinking, but I've had a serious case of wanting life to be fair. When I think about my little neighbor boy, D, and his meth-addicted Mom. When I think about life with a special needs child. When I watch the news.
Point your finger anywhere on the globe, and you'll find heartache - and it makes me feel helpless.
But I took something away from the corny little baseball movie Superman took under his cape:"No matter where life takes you, you keep swinging."
Can't hurt to keep trying.
Everyone'sHero ChristopherReeve DanaReeve fairness inspiration
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