Robyn was born in the 20th Century, the youngest of three children, and not too long before I arrived. She grew up in the big city, attended its public schools, and has a high school diploma to prove it. As I recall, her dad either owned or was employed in a neighborhood pharmacy, a place that doesn’t exist today, with an inviting counter and stools where you could sit and order a cold chocolate phosphate on a hot afternoon.
If I don’t know much about her parents, it might be that I’m not always the most attentive or careful listener. I’ve heard that Robyn’s father died while he was still a relatively young man; I know her mom lived longer yet she wasn’t someone you’d automatically say was old when she died. Robyn optimistically hopes to live healthy until she’s one hundred!
Robyn’s older brother lives in another state. I’ve met him numerous times and we’ve spoken on the phone. Robyn reminds me that her brother is an outspoken political conservative, so I make it a point to avoid discussing politics with him. He is direct. I like that quality.
Robyn’s older sister lives nearby. They have an odd relationship. Robyn calls her sister every day but often her sister reacts as if they had nothing in common or anything to say. Robyn’s sister reminds me of Flo’s egocentric, put-upon sister from the insurance company’s television commercials, but, in fairness, I don’t know her very well.
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As a young woman, Robyn had three children during a marriage that ended in divorce. The next guy stayed longer but that relationship eventually ended. And the third guy died.
She had the primary responsibility for raising and supporting the kids. Now that they are adults, Robyn looks back with obvious pride, but she can be hard on herself for self-perceived shortcomings as a mother. When she gets this way, I might point out that Kevin, her oldest son, is successful in his professional career and a veritable Boy Scout. Naturally, he remains in the area because he is a dutiful son, who loves his mom.
From all accounts, Brian in California is an altogether different personality from his dependable, rock-steady brother. Even as a middle-aged man, Brian remains a bit of a dreamer. Yet, with a smart and lovely daughter, whom I’ve met several times, and an ex-wife, who appears still to care about him, Brian must possess many fine qualities. He is the most imaginative and artistically inclined child of the three.
Robyn’s youngest is “Nurse” Jill, as I call her. She is smart, highly skilled, and employed in a demanding profession. Unfortunately, on a personal level, she is a troubled woman. Jill and her daughter, Sarah, who is twenty-three and a recent college graduate, live under Robyn’s roof. I have often had occasion to observe Jill and Robyn’s complex relationship. I can’t say whether Jill’s simmering grievances are real or imagined. Regardless, sometimes it is sad for me to watch them interact because it’s so obvious that Jill wishes she were more like her mother, who sets high standards.
At first, Jill seemed to resent me. However, slowly over time, I think I have earned her trust and confidence. Maybe I’m just imagining what I see, but these days Jill seems to brighten up when she sees me enter their house. Her positive reaction makes me feel good. It marks real progress for someone who has led such an insular life. Meanwhile, I suspect her fraught relationship with Robyn will continue to have long-term implications for me and Robyn.
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It’s not bizarre that Robyn and I met through a dating website during the height of the pandemic, but it is remarkable that we’re still together after all these years. Ours is a rare dating site success story.
This is not to say that our relationship is perfect. For example, when we met, we were each employed full-time. She still is. I have since come to realize that Robyn, despite being retirement age, likes her work. While I can’t help but admire her energy and drive, I wish she were working part-time, leaving us more opportunities to enjoy life together.
Unfortunately, even then, things between us would still not be perfect. For one thing, Robyn is habituated to falling asleep in her bedroom with the television set blaring. I am just the opposite. Operating a television in my otherwise dark and quiet bedroom seems like it would be anathema to getting a sound snooze.
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This week marks Robyn’s birthday, which is a milestone birthday. It’s such a big occasion that we’ve turned it into Robyn’s birthday week! Last night Kevin and his significant other, Angie, treated Robyn, Jill and Sarah, and Michael and Nina, two more of Robyn’s grandchildren, to dinner. A fine time was had, and I was glad to attend. Tonight is our regular Thursday “date night,” where the celebration is bound to continue. Robyn’s real birthday is Saturday, and I have more plans then, which must remain under wraps for now, lest she read this blog.
However, she already knows about my gift to her. In October we are going to New York City for a long weekend to include a Broadway show, touristy fun and sophisticated food. The City that Never Sleeps ought to provide the perfect getaway for Robyn, who seldom sleeps.
Happy birthday, baby. I love you.
