Robin

The year was 1955. My new wife Anna had been married before and had four young and beautiful children. The youngest, and the one I am going to write about now is Robin. Like all young children, her most obvious characteristic was curiosity. She was everywhere, into everything and asking a question a minute about whatever you were doing.
Her one biggest asset was, she loved everyone, and everyone loved her. Our oldest child was her sister, Jackie. Since we were a young and large family,the two girls shared a bedroom, The two other children, both boys, Marshall and Dewyte, also shared a room. Even with these logistics we still needed a three bedroom home with no accommodations for company. This was not a drawback since we had just moved to Houston Texas from Ohio and did not know anyone well enough to have overnight guests.
Jackie had to be the most tolerant soul, for she was to assume the position of the role model to her sister who resisted any type of authority, especially from a sibling.
We somehow continued to grow as a family. The love shared in our home consisted of the special stuff that existed and grew stronger through all of the usual trials and tribulations of an American family. It is impossible to love one child over another, but any family will gravitate to the child who needs the most attention. Robin was destined to be that child.
All went well for Robin until her teen years. She began to think that everyday was a day to have as much fun as possible, without any regard to the of the loss of the usual restraints practiced by most teenage girls. She was the perfect example of self will run rampant. These were the sixties and a new moral code was in it's beginning stages. The Hippies were recognised as a legitimate grouping of young people who rebelled at modern societies rules and examples. The youth of America were joining in making things over in ways they perceived as more acceptable. The civil rights movement was a catalyst for many. The Beetles and other musical groups were leading in the expression of disgust at adults who thought more of war than the starvation of millions around the world. It was an easy time be confused and easily led.
Charles Manson and his group murdered several people in hopes of creating a race war. Jim Jones took his group of 800 followers to Uganda and convinced them all to drink poisoned kool-aid. The adult women also had their children drink, and die. These things are hard to believe now, but at the time, it was just the way it was.
Robin stayed on the fringes of this insanity, but, as many teenagers she began to find some peer stature by using drugs. Marijuana at first, then Qualudes and Preludes and probably whatever else that was available. She had a daughter, Jennifer, she soon left her with Jackie and went to California to write poetry for a few years. A few marriages later she met and married the father of her three additional children.
She settled down, got a good job, and was a good wife and mother while continuing the recreational use of drugs. All of her friends were clones of each other, same age group, same thought patterns, and used more drugs than the body could tolerate for very long.
She never lost that love gene. It was the same for everyone she met, and most people returned her love. She was surrounded by more friends than most of us, a glowing personality
walking through life seeking something that was just around the corner. When Robin's last husband filed for divorce, she was shattered and mentally alone. Her eldest son was killed in a freak accident, her older daughter was married and her other son and daughter were preparing for college. Finally, she was emotionally alone and just living life as it came.
A few months before she died, her mother and I met her for lunch and told her how worried we were about her isolating and suspected drug usage. She loved us and would not knowingly do anything to hurt us. It was just not in her power at that time to make the changes that needed to be made.
Robin called me about a month later and said she was going to help a lady friend who was ill for a few days, then she said she needed to talk to me about something serious. She would call me within a week.
Jackie called me a few days later---Robin had died of a heart attack at the friends house whom she was trying to help.
It is impossible to explain the incomprehensible, immediate change from life to nothing. With your own child, it all seems so unfair. We all loved you Robin, but you knew that, all we have now is the wonderful memories of the joyous times we had together. Thank you for sharing your too short life with us.