Where did I come from?

I had an argument with a friend of mine the other day about whether or not Kevin and Winnie wind up together at the end of The Wonder Years.
Remember that show? Fred Savage...star of one of my all time favorite movies - The Princess Bride. He pops up every now and again, and still looks like he's about 12 years old.
Anyways, I looked up the final episode of The Wonder Years on You Tube and found a clip of the last five minutes. I was wrong...they don't wind up together. But watching it made me cry...it's really lovely narration...and a really simple story.

In contrast, this next story is a bit convoluted so bear with me. I should start by saying that I cannot confirm the absolute truth of the story. Some of it is my embellished memories from childhood, some of it mere neighbourhood gossip...and believe me we had some crazy neighbourhood gossips (housewives with nothing better to do but play tennis and gossip about the neighbours), and some of it I have recently heard fourth or fifth hand as it trickles through the grapevine to find me in another province.

The neighborhood I grew up in sometimes bore a striking resemblance to Orange County, or Wisteria Lane, or any number of fictional soap opera towns. I have an infinite number of ridiculous stories about it...but we'll keep it to just one for now.

Two families lived down the block from eachother...we'll call them the Hansons, and the Greens. Mr. Hanson was a high powered, well paid lawyer...work-a-holic...so dedicated to his work, in fact, that he used to bring his legal assistant - she of the stillettos and those nylons with the line up the back - on family vacations so that they could "get work done." Needless to say, it wasn't much of a suprise to the neighborhood when Mr. Hanson up and abandoned his family for the legal assistant - leaving Mrs. Hanson with custody of the children, the house, the Jaguar, and apparently, the liquor cabinet. Behind closed doors, and unbeknownst to the neighbors, she became a heavy duty alcoholic.

Meanwhile, up the street Mr. Green was carrying on his lovely life across the street from the neighborhood park. Beautiful large grey house with a veranda and a pink door, and flowers filling the gardens. He earned a good living and he and his wife were raising their three beautiful daughters: 2 blonde and one brunette, spaced evenly and perfectly - 2 years apart. He almost didn't even notice that it was happening, but his wife began to go out more frequently with her girlfriend - movie nights and weekends up to the mountains...vacations to Hawaii. He suspected nothing until his wife left him...for her girlfriend.

And so the jilted spouses mourned their loss together and slowly but surely love blossomed. Mr. Green moved his daughters down the street into Mrs. Hanson's lovely spacious home and they lived as a family - the dysfunctional Brady Bunch. And this lasted for years - at least through high school for us...and then some. But from what I gather, Mrs. Hanson's alcoholism became too much to handle - she developed cirrhosis of the liver, and was placed on a transplant list for a new liver. She got her new liver, but lost her relationship because she committed the cardinal sin of transplant patients. She began to drink her way through the second liver. Mr. Green decided he could no longer watch Mrs. Hanson kill herself.

I found out today that Mrs. Hanson died yesterday. And I have a lot of thoughts and emotions about that: sadness, anger, grief, disgust, pity, compassion...for a lot of the actors in this play. But maybe I'll leave it there for now. Mrs. Hanson died yesterday - early 50s, three children barely adult. She will never see her children get married. She will never know her grandchildren and they will never know her. And her death was caused by something she did to herself - knowingly...possibly not willingly...but knowingly. That makes me sad.