Did you enjoy that cliffhanger? Here goes the finale of my fantasy:

The pregnant woman and I are hurled straight up into the air and away from her burning car, landing hard on the pavement more than 25 feet away (whether or not this is even possible or probably plays no part in my mind; this is my fantasy, damn it!)

Pain flares in my right leg and I lose consciousness for just a moment, but shake my head and force myself to stay awake. The pregnant lady rolls onto her side nearby, tipping onto her back, and it suddenly hits me that she probably crashed because she was in labor and the baby is in serious trouble. I raise myself to my knees with great difficulty, I know my leg is broken, probably in more than one place, I'm leaving a trail of blood behind me, yet I somehow manage over to shimmy to where she is, fling her skirt over her head, pull down her panties and note that her baby is crowning. I reach down, catch the kid in my arms, wrap my jacket around it tightly, hold it against me for warmth, then pass out.

In the next phase of my fantasy, I'm accepting a giant cash award from the asshole Plant Manager who never appreciated anything I ever did. I'm standing at a podium before a beaming crowd that includes all my loving relatives and friends, as well as envious co-workers. My right leg is cossetted in a plaster cast from hip to foot, and I'm leaning on gleaming crutches as speech after speech is made about my bravery and how I singlehandedly delivered the baby and saved his mother while bleeding to death from a triple compound fracture of the leg.

It's Pollyanna all over again, but not only am I injured, I'm also a hero who saved two people's lives. Why I feel this perpetual need to be admired and loved is beyond me, but whenever I see the end of POLLYANNA, I cry all over again. Of course, I cry at the end of GONE WITH THE WIND and WIZARD OF OZ, too, but all those two gals wanted was to go home again, one to Tara, the other to Kansas.

My son is heading up to Binghampton to visit his girlfriend for a long weekend. I wish him Godspeed, with no nasty cops to ticket him, or, God forbid, an accident to injure or do worse. His 23rd birthday is Monday. The day he was born was the most amazing of my life. I never thought I'd want children, but once he was born, I loved him with a fierceness I didn't think possible. You CREATE that human being, and the miracle of that creation does something to your heart--perhaps, for just a brief time, you feel like God himself.

Then comes time for potty training and you realize you're all-too-mortal.

You know what? I think, in Brad's eyes, I WAS a hero during his earliest years. Now I'm just a flawed adult. Damn. Wish I'd appreciated it when I had it!

Love, an all-too-flawed grown-up,
Robin

I often fantasize about being a hero (or would I be a heroine? Isn't that an evil, injectable, habit-forming drug?) In either case, I want to save people. Or at least be the center of love and attention. I adored POLLYANNA, the Hayley Mills flick. I loved her positive attitude, how she turned a sad town dominated by her bitchy aunt into a glad town. When she yelled at the actress who eventually played Endora on BEWITCHED, "You should be concentrating on LIVING instead of DYING!", God, I was so thrilled! But when Pollyanna had to sneak out to the carnival and down a tree because her nasty aunt wouldn't let her go, then tumbled down that tree on the return trip, hurting her back so badly, she required a potentially paralyzing operation, the entire town came to give the depressed child back some of the glad that she had passed along to them.

I have wanted to be Pollyanna my entire life! Unfortunately, while I did require back surgery when I was 20, I never did get the nifty town send-off with the huge raft of gifts, hugs, tears and adoration and Pollyanna inspired. She even moved her aunt to tears, finally breaking the hard ice in that cold, cold woman! It was a miracle!

I guess I just want to make a positive difference in this rotten world. In my imagination, I've located that son of a bitch, Osama bin Laden, and killed him with a long, sharp knife, plunging it into and out of him so many times, he looked like chopped meat by the time I was done. I imagine one knife plunge for each of the people he murdered on 9/11. I realize that's an awful lot of gouges, but I'm thinking with my heart, not my head.

Another fantasy I have takes place on one of my regular workday walks. As I'm moving along at my usual brisk, power-walk pace, a car careens past me, moving helter-skelter all over the road, then crashes into a tree with a teeth-shattering jolt. I race over to the driver's side and see lone a woman inside. Her head is bleeding badly; she's unconscious. I pull open the door with difficulty, noting a fire flaring up in the damaged engine cavity, reach over to unbuckle her seatbelt, then tug at her arms to drag her out. She weighs a lot and I see why--she's very pregnant! Just as I'm hauling her body out, there's an explosion, and both of us are catapulted away from the burning car!

(to be continued)

Love, Robin

It was quite a gorgeous weekend. Saturday was warm and heavy, humid, yesterday felt cooler and windier, and today is cooler still. I wore a light jacket while walking the dogs this morning, and it was cold! Either way, it feels more like spring, and that always lightens my mood. Of course, my mood would be considerably lighter if Brad got a teaching job, but I need to keep patience and hope that my son gets what he deserves. He got screwed out of the job he should have had, but I have to believe that means something even better awaits him, and all he has to do is go on the interview to claim it.

I went to the movies to see INSIDE MAN with Jane yesterday. Jane was my brother's first serious girlfriend. They dated a few years, but each wanted something else out of life--Jane wanted kids, Steve didn't. Now he seems to be thoroughly enjoying being stepdad to Pat's two daughters and her son, not to mention grandfather to her granddaughter. I guess Steve just didn't want any kids of his own. I have no idea why. I love the idea that Brad is a part of me, flesh of my flesh.

I like Jane, but she tends to be somewhat anal. We visited her daughter's home yesterday after the movie (which was great, by the way), and Jane kept harping on what a mess it was. I kept wondering what she would say if she saw MY house the way it looks right now and what she would think of me if she felt THAT was a mess! I kept reassuring Jane I didn't mind, but she kept harping on it. She does that a lot, and I know it's going to bother me a lot down the line. Plus, if I EVER invite her to my home, I'm going to need a witch's spell to clean it up enough so she won't be judging me! And really, who needs that?

Jane's husband, Harvey, exited bed, where he'd apparently spent most of the day. (I called their house at 9:20 AM, and to my embarrassment, woke both Jane and Harvey up). He's lost 40 pounds since being put on insulin, and I congratulated him on the weight loss, but frankly, his body was not in the least appealing. Jane had told me he was obese, but he didn't really look that way, just very blubbery. I know, I'm being judgmental, too, but this is between me and myself and my blog-readers!

Dan and Mike went to see SLITHER, a scary flick, and Dan claims he's going to have nightmares for the rest of his life as a result. Hey, that's the kind of movie they like to see! The three of us went to the diner for dinner. Brad spent yet another night with Ali and her parents, the fourth this week. It's not that we begrudged him going there for two night's worth of seders or a BBQ, but we would have enjoyed being invited, just once!

Not much else to tell. I have to take Dan to Honda in Levittown to drop off his car. They're going to check out the alarm system, which has periodically been going off in the middle of the night. One of our neighbors complained to Dan, so now he's in a frenzy to take care of it. My fear is that it's not a malfunction, but someone really trying to steal my son's car! Weird that it's only happening in the middle of the night, huh? Never in the daytime.

I have to loan Brad my car to take to his class tonight. I don't mind, but it just means more gas I'll have to replace. Sigh. It's closing in on three dollars a gallon now. I can't believe it. And our last oil bill was $2.69--$360! Plus, we had a $120 gardener's bill for cleaning up the yard, too. Oil and gardener are not supposed to happen at the same time, damn it!

Juxtaposition can kill you sometimes, ya know?

Love, Robin

It looks like Nancy and Chris will be leaving NY. I know that's what they want, but not what I want. I know all that bullshit about wanting what's best for your friends, wanting what THEY want, etc., but damn it, I WANT THEM TO STAY!

Enough childish ranting. Sharon and Tom left for France yesterday. He begged her for months to go with him, but she kept saying no. She decided she may as well go, since she wanted to experience France, but she always says she enjoys being with Tom, anyway. I can't explain that one. Without going into detail, he put her life in danger and she stayed with him anyway. She still loves him on some level, and can't bring herself to leave him. He has Parkinson's and a bad heart into which a fibrillator has been installed. It jump-starts his heart when it stops. It's happened twice so far. He isn't supposed to drive a car, but sometimes does, anyway. I don't know how much longer he'll live, but right now he's staying home with the kids, Sharon's working full time, and she seems very happy with the arrangement, if not always with him.

I hope she has a great time, but Tom isn't really in great health, and I have no idea how much sight-seeing they're going to be able to do in Paris unless she puts him in a wheelchair. I just wish she'd called me before she left, as she'd said she was going to do.

Tony and Mary had their dog, Yoshi, put to sleep the other night. "She was a trouper to the end," said Tony. He showed me pictures he'd taken of her in his cell phone on her last day. She looked good, smiling for the camera. I can easily see her bounding along beside Muffin on the vast hills beyond Rainbow Bridge. They're waiting for us, and one of these days, we'll join them there for a joyous reunion.

Someone wrote and told me my last couple of entries were seriously too sad. They preferred me writing about farts and my husband's problems with clogging toilets.

You know, so do I.

Unfortunately, life is made up of funny tales, sad stories, and everything in-between. I talk about my little boy being stricken with diabetes at the age of four, or my mother dying two months before I gave birth, or my father dying a month before I graduated college.

I married my husband on a humid July day in an outdoor ceremony. A beetle landed on the wine glass and the Rabbi flicked it off with his fingers without missing a beat of the ceremony, causing me to nearly choke with giggles.

A pregnant woman where my husband works dashed across the workroom floor to the bathroom, pooping as she ran, leaving turds every few feet.

Once, as I raced to the bathroom myself, newspaper in hand, intent on taking a crap, a coworker shouted out, "Hey, Robin, do you know that when you're running to take a dump, you leave a trail of smelly farts in your wake?"

Yes, life is made up of sorrows and laughter, and sometimes they're so entwined in any given day--in any given MOMENT--they're impossible to separate.

Here's to an Easter and Passover filled with more laughter than sorrows for all of us.

Love, Robin

I work with Tony, a tall, really nice guy who loves dogs as much as I do. He's a volunteer firefighter, and I tease him about being well in touch with his feminine side. Of course, he takes that as an insult, even though I intend it as a compliment.

Tonight, Tony and his wife, Mary, are planning to take their failing 15 year old Standard Poodle, Yoshi, to have her put to sleep. It's breaking their hearts, but it's time. I think it's right that when a pet grows feeble, unable to walk, unable to enjoy life, that animal should be injected and painlessly allowed to leave this earth. I believe in Rainbow Bridge, where beloved pets are resurrected as the vibrant pups they once were, reunited with loved ones, both human and animal, and can cavort for eternity, eating their favorite food and never knowing a sad or painful moment.

How I wish we humans had the same option!

Tony and Mary have put off going to their vet for a couple of nights, canceled appointments, but they know Yoshi's death is inevitable, and keeping her alive now is selfish. Letting their dog go is the ultimate final act of love they will give to a dog who has brought them so much joy since before they were married.

It's going to be very difficult. I know. Dan and I put our sweet, gentle poodle, Muffin, to sleep over 10 years ago, and I still remember the pain of returning home with empty arms, her collar and leash all we had left of her.

A few weeks later, the vet sent us a condolence card, praising us for loving a creature whose life span is so much shorter than ours, one to whom we must say goodbye while our adoration is so very strong.

I have been breaking into tears often today, thinking of Muffin, of Yoshi, of pets and owners separated by death all over the world. I look forward to the day I once again see Muffin as a spry pup, running to meet me over Rainbow Bridge, hurtling into my embrace as she used to do.

I also learned that a lifelong friend who had been told she was in remission from breast cancer has once again been stricken. I don't know all the details yet, but this woman is only 47, beautiful, determined, and if anyone can beat it back again, she can.

Bad news. I despise it. Death, sickness, I want them to just go away and leave people I love alone.

If only I had the power.

Love, Robin