I don't know why her death bugs me so much. It's not like I ever met her or even was familiar with her work. She seemed like a devoted wife, but how much can we ever know about the truth of someone famous? Still, she seemed cool. What really bugs me is the boy. He's 13. Both of his parents are gone. Yes, he's rich -- more money than I'll ever see in my lifetime, I'm sure. But money can't salve this wound, can't replace what he's lost. Children lose parents. Parents lose children. This case is no worse or better than thousands of others. But I don't read about thousands of others, so for me, this is worse.
Fate is cruel. She had a wonderful life to lead now as Christopher Reeve's death freed her as much as it did him from the prison of his body. Not that she didn't miss him, but come on. My mother would say that's why he died -- because he couldn't have taken the loss of her. That, mother dear, I'm sorry to say is bullshit. If God wants to take him to save him the agony of his wife's death, a more elegant solution would be to just refrain from having her get lung cancer.
Oh well. I hope that wherever they are, she and Christopher are dancing. And I hope their son is in the embrace of someone who loves him fiercely.
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Funny. In all the talk of Dana Reeve at the office today, no one mentioned the kid. Someone mentioned how young she was. And someone pointed out that youth is relative. But no one mentioned the kid.
Cheryl, you got out while the getting is good. Is a roomful of journalists really so detached from the kind of stuff that makes life real? Often, yeah.
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