Soap Opera Dead

I have a confession people, of the many flaws in my character, one of the more nasty and hard to break is that I am a dyed in the wool “All My Children” addict. 

It began years ago when I was in High School so in my formative years the foundation for years of dependency was well established. 

Over the Christmas holidays my DH had from Christmas Eve through yesterday off. Today was his first day back after the New Year. 

Throughout his time at home he would from time to time catch a few moments of my daily fix. 

“I thought he was dead!” says my DH. 

I shake my head in shame and gently repeat to him the rules. 

I say in my most loving tone "Now Honey you know that there are two different definitions of dead. There is real life dead and Soap Opera Dead.” 

Now over the course of our 26 years of marriage I have explained this concept to him countless times, yet he fails to grasp the shear genius of the distinction. 

I patiently explain the concept to him yet again. 

“Now honey you know that no one is ever really dead on a soap opera unless they die in real life. If you die on a soap opera there is always a chance for a miraculous recovery, a scientific breakthrough that brings them out of a permanent vegetative state, there was a body switch in the hospital morgue made by Russian spies, a near death individual was whisked off to a remote island to convalesce in seclusion, or being held captive in a third world country, there is a terrible accident and they lay bandaged from head to toe for months in a convent. Let’s not forget the being held captive by an evil millionaire or having your memory erased by an explosion as you wander aimlessly across the country until you are reunited with your long lost love, or one of my all time favorites is the secret identical twin or dissociative identify disorder scenario.” 

He looks at me and shakes his head, I marvel at his ignorance. 

I actually feel a moment of pity that my husband has not had the benefit of the occasional dose of Myrte, I continue weeping, you see Myrtle Fargate a long time AMC cast member recently passed away. They devoted an entire episode to saying good bye to this sweet and crusty old carney gal. I will miss her wit, her way of telling it like it is and down right brass you know what.

I was watching the tribute to her one morning and brushing away the tears. It is so funny how you grow to love and really feel like you know the actors who come into your lives though these silly shows. But I must admit that I did shed a tear when I heard that she had passed away. 

My DH looks at me as I wipe my tears away and he tentatively asks me “So is she really dead???” 

As I reach for another tissue i think to myself that the only force of nature that can not be overcome by the unique and slightly bizarre talents of the writers of my beloved soap is the passage of time. 

I shake my head in pity, he will quite possible never get this delicate balance of life and death involved in the land of soap operas and I just simply answer “Yes honey she’s really dead.”

 So there is soap opera dead and there is real death.

Rest in Peace Myrte.

Blessings

Robin