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My fellow dispatcher Bob is a medical retiree from the Fairborn Police department that been with us for a little over a year and has been a joy to have about.

He has a vast stockpile of amazing and amusing stories of police work and much more interesting stories from his service in the U.S. Army when stationed in Germany. Was there when the wall came down I believe. HIS long suffering wife is from there and she recently returned from a month vacation with family whle Bob went to Dayton Dragons games and restaurants and pretended not to miss her.

Other then one small disagreement we have a harmonious relationship and I truly enjoy his company. We share one thing very much in common.

A dislike for our daughter-in-laws and bafflement about our son's marrying them in the first place. Gina is Jim's first wife affectionately known to me as the Devil Child--a more selfish amoral person I've never known save Pam M. from 1977. Bob and I share war stories about the young ladies in question and agree they both have only one real talent--producing cute grand-children--that they appear to neglect but let's not add libel to the problem. I've personally felt that Bob's daughter-in-law is more boring then irritating whereas Gina excells at the creation of schism and mayhem with the air of entitlement I despise more then pride which I am constantly warring with and never really winning--any victories are by the mercy of God and seasoned with grace.

By now you probably have guessed who has entered the veil of eternity but some scene setting needs to be set up. For the record I do not and have never known her name nor Bob's son he always refers to them as my boy, my son, or that idiot--interchangeable between the two). About two weeks ago Bob's son decides to go out for the evening bar hopping with a friend. This is a semi-regular pasttime where nothing much more then tale telling and very light buzzing takes place. Bob's son's wife has two children from a previous relationship/marriage(??no one in dispatch has ever been sure) and one very cute little 18 month old named Sammy. The two older siblings do the rotation between parental units but Sammy lives blissfully next door to Bob and Bob adores her as much as I do the Avengers so she is worshiped. Bob's son and wife live next door in a rented place. I met Sammy just once during Christmas time--I had given Brandy a Tickle Me Elmo figurine that said all his catch phrases and little Sammy ended up playing with it when visiting dispatch. Bob had to go out and get one for her for HER Christmas and she loves it.

Anyhooo said mature bride angry at being stuck at home and unable to load Sammy off on Bob and cut in on boy's night out or when geeks masquerade as men evening time she proceeds to punch two holes in the dry wall in the living room.

And pout.

And blame hubby when he comes sliding back in around 1 am. Like I imply not major players in the bar scene.

Fussing ensues.

More fussing.

(Side note: By now if it had been me and the long suffering spouse I would have been angling to turn this around for marriage benefits but Bozo does something else.)

He decides he can fix the wall. That morning. Dad has dry wall in the garage next door and he's perfectly willing to donate to a good cause. So far so good.

B-u-t--Bozo being still in his mid 20s decides he's Daredevil or Batman or someone like that and instead of simply opening the privacy fence (his key to Dad's house had been revoked because he loses them all the time) and enter the garage--he knows the trick to the door) he vaults the privacy fence like an Olympic contender.

And breaks two bones in his ankle.

Then tells Bob the next day he hopped off his truck and landed funny.

Bob notices the privacy fence and being a former police man and knowing Bozo even better starts putting two and two together.

So far so good. Alls well with the universe--the chidren still play mind games with dear ol' Mom and Dad and Brittainy Spears is still NOT an original singer. Though pleasant to watch it must be confessed just don't mistake her for the real thing. Now Leanne Rimes now---

Now the bad news so far is that Bob's son was between jobs but was on the cusp of getting on at Delphi plant that pays their worker bees quite well and has a union that wins as often as they concede. No guy on crutches going to be hired soon. Surgery was scheduled for the 15th. He's in hospital. Bob is off on his scheduled two day break Tueday and Wednesday to come back Thursday evening.

I arrive back from Hospice and AAA visit at about noon time and await Ruth's return from school. Her check is a bit light this week so a meal is all I'm hoping for as I say goodby to getting the latest Justice League of America. I had set my cell phone down on the bed room dresser and was considering what project--dishes, lawn mowing, or getting the corner of the driveway sticks picked up since finishing the tree limbs the other day. I go in the library to be tempted by the many unread books therein--I used to be caught up all the time years ago and now I procrastinate away.

For some reason I wander back to the bed room and discover my cell phone has FIVE missed calls on it. All from AAA where I had just left.

There was a moment of temptation NOT to call back. It was a legitimate day off for me--the first of my four in a row. The five hits meant something out of the ordinary was up. I call in.

Tami needs me to work tonight. Bob had gone over to the house for one reason or another and found his daughter-in-law dead on the floor. He took little Sammy back home and needs to tell his son at the hospital and start taking care of things.

I work the next two nights for him. I'm off today doing this triology. I don't know anything more then this at this time.

You dislike someone but it hits close when the object is beyond reach (and redemption).

To God be the mystery and glory. His ways are unfathomable.

But always for the best.