Robin Keim

I met Robin in the fall of 1994 when she and P.J. walked into an Open House I was hosting on Pine Street.  They had a couple of kids in tow and told me their home on MacArthur had become too small.  The home on Pine Street didn’t work for them but I knew I would enjoy working with them.   I offered to help them find their next home and was welcomed into their lives.

Robin and P.J. (she called him Peege) looked like they belonged together.  He was an all-state end at Kearny High and she was a beauty.  They had an easy, comfortable way with each other, the kind of thing you see when a marriage is blessed with harmony.  There are usually anxious moments when couples search for a new home, but the warmth, trust, and respect they shared was palpable. 

Robin grew up on Mohawk Drive and was very much a south side girl.  Though the north side/south side bias isn’t nearly as pronounced these days, she keenly felt the division and wanted to remain on the south side of the tracks.   We searched for several months and couldn’t find the right property. 

Finally, a north side property came to market that I thought might interest them.  The home was next to the bike path on Herning Avenue and there was a wooded area behind the home, just as there had been on Mohawk Drive.  The home needed a fair amount of work and Robin bit her lower lip when she first walked through the house.  But she loved the setting and knew they could make this house their home.  After Robin and P.J.’s offer was accepted, I told Robin that Herning Avenue was the best ‘trick or treat’ street in Cranford and that she’d need eight bags of candy for Halloween.

Robin and P.J. moved into their new home in July and got to work.  They took a wall down to open up the family room, redecorated every room and sanded and refinished the floors.  When I saw Robin on Halloween she was on her way to buy more candy.  She told me I was wrong.  She said that she had started with eight bags, but needed at least four more.  She was so happy.

I’d catch up with Robin at soccer games, in town or sometimes she’d stop by the office.  She was so involved in our community and always had a story to tell.  She was good at sharing.  I heard about things that concerned her, plans that she was making and things she wanted to do.  I remember how pleased she was when she learned that she was pregnant and how torn apart she was when she miscarried.  The miscarriage came early in the pregnancy and she had lost twins.  Robin had some medical issues and a third child seemed unlikely. 

Robin and P.J. always had a spiritual component and it’s possible that prayer played a part.  Soon, Robin was pregnant again, and this time it was only one baby.  Everyone was nervous, but the pregnancy went well and a very healthy baby girl, MacKenzie, showed up.  Talk about answered prayers and boundless joy,

Where I had received Christmas cards with a picture of two little kids, now there were three – and the two little kids, Danielle and Chris got bigger every year.   P.J. coached a girl’s traveling soccer squad and Danielle and her teammates were committed competitors.  I often caught up with Robin and P.J. at soccer games.  P.J. would prowl the sidelines and sometimes I’d walk with him.  Just as often I’d sit in the stands with Robin.

Last fall, P.J. told me that he was concerned about Robin.  He said she was going through a depression.  It was medical thing they didn’t quite understand.  A couple weeks later I ran into Robin at Bloomingdale School.  She worked with first graders as a classroom aide.  She looked terrific and greeted me warmly.  I saw her a few times in late October when she and P.J. were walking.  They were holding hands, and had Bailey, their pup, on a leash.  When I stopped to chat, she seemed distracted, as though she couldn’t focus.  I was worried.

When P.J. called me in early December to tell me that the diagnosis had been wrong, he was crying.  Robin hadn’t been suffering from depression, it was much worse.  She had a tumor, an aggressive, virulent cancer for which there was no known cure.

During the last three months of her life the community that Robin nurtured and served so well, turned out for her.  There’s a quirky randomness to life that makes it more interesting.  The randomness of death, particularly the death of a young mother, is beyond comprehension.   Questions are asked, that simply don’t have answers.

Robin was buoyed by her faith.  It wasn’t a faith that had been recently acquired.  She was able to accept that her life was ending without anger or bitterness.  She was concerned for her children, and Peege and how they would get on without her.  When friends stopped by to visit and comfort her, she comforted them.

Robin lived a life that ended far too soon.  She lived that life well.  She is a lesson in how to live a life.  The courage, strength, grace and dignity that marked her life were even more evident in her final days.  Robin Keim inspired me and I will miss her.  Rest in peace.

Marc Kelley is a resident of Cranford and can be reached at mkelley@eclipse.net.