Yes, Life Really Isn’t Fair, And…

Life really isn’t fair. People in the Parkinson’s community know this very well.

Most of us heard this truism early, but it never stops hurting when it shows up unexpectedly, cruel, and senseless. Rob Reiner and his wife, Michelle, being gone isn’t fair. 

And yet, here we are.

I keep thinking about Stand By Me, a film that has called out to me since the first time I saw it as a teenager. 

Gordie: Do you think I'm weird ? 

Chris: Definitely. 

Gordie: No man, seriously. Am I weird? 

Chris: Yeah, but so what? Everybody's weird.

It feels especially close right now. I have a pair of teenagers at home traversing their own hero’s journeys. As often happens in parenting, their journey reminds me of my own. 

At its heart, Stand By Me is a story about kids who already know, far too young, that life isn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Gordie LaChance lost his older brother, Denny. It wasn’t fair that his parents, broken by grief, neglected him and made him feel small, invisible, even ashamed for surviving. It wasn’t fair that the thing Gordie loved most, writing, his God-given talent, felt like something no one around him valued. Except Denny. And he was gone. Unfair.

It wasn’t fair that Chris Chambers was born into a family with a reputation that followed him everywhere. That teachers, cops, and neighbors saw his last name before they saw him. That he had to work twice as hard just to be seen as half as good. None of that was his fault.

None of it was fair. And yet Chris refuses to let Gordie waste his gift. He sees something true in his friend and stands between Gordie and the quiet erasure of his life. “You’re gonna be a great writer someday,” he insists—long before Gordie believes it himself. That act doesn’t fix the unfairness. It doesn’t bring back Gordie’s brother. It doesn’t rewrite Chris’s family history.

Chris: I know how your dad feels about you. He doesn't give a shit about you. Denny was the one he cared about and don't try to tell me different. You're just a kid, Gordie.

Gordie: Oh, gee! Thanks, Dad!

Chris: Wish the hell I was your dad. You wouldn't be goin' around talkin' about takin' these stupid shop courses if I was. It's like God gave you something, man, all those stories you can make up. And He said, "This is what we got for ya, kid. Try not to lose it." Kids lose everything unless there's someone there to look out for them. And if your parents are too fucked up to do it, then maybe I should.

But it does answer the only question that really matters.

Once we accept that life isn’t fair, the question becomes clear: What are we going to do about it?

Rob and Michelle’s deaths weren't fair. We can’t change those things.  What we can do is decide what we do with the ache it leaves behind.

For me, that means continuing to spotlight Rob’s incredible legacy the best way I know how: by gathering people together, by talking about the stories he gave us that shaped us. I’d love to lead a group through the hero’s journey of Stand By Me in a Cinema Therapy to see what we might dig up. Friendship, grief, loyalty, and the quiet heroism of standing up for one another when the world doesn’t. Are you in?

Because we all know what it feels like when life isn’t fair. Parkinson’s isn’t fair. Loss isn’t fair. Grief isn’t fair. Silence isn’t fair.

The best way I know to push back against that unfairness is simple, and it’s hard, and it’s human: To stand by each other. To stand with each other. To stand for each other.

Yes, life really isn’t fair. And… we still get to choose who we are in response.