When a Neighbor Dies

Yesterday, my neighbor died. 

Massive heart attack. Took him quick. It was traumatic for the family who were present when he collapsed. He was about 65. His wife was trembling uncontrollably sitting on her front porch by the time I heard the news. The ambulance had come and gone, and I had not even heard the siren.

I don't know why I didn't hear it. The TV was not on, I was not listening to any music. I was working on lessons for the week. I didn't have a notion that my neighbor was dying until another neighbor, who heard the sirens, called to tell me something was going on down my way. I looked out the back door, and there were the flashing lights of several vehicles.

I thanked my friend for calling me, slipped on some shoes, threw on my jacket, grabbed a flashlight, and picked my way through the woods that separated my house from my neighbor's.

By the time I got there, the ambulance had already taken him away. His wife crying on the porch. My neighbor Carol consoling her, talking to her, giving to her. Carol knew what she was going through. Carol's son was killed a few years ago in a 4-wheeler accident. This very month. Today is the anniversary of her son's death. He was only 15.

There was Carol, giving more than I could give, but I stayed, and I went inside to see how the daughter and granddaughter were doing. The EMT supervisor was still there, and wasn't going to leave until someone had arrived to stay with the family. At the time, there was hope that my neighbor was still alive... the EMT's were "working on him," and that gave the family hope, but the truth was visible in their grief. They knew. They knew.

Someone arrived to take them to the hospital, and I made my way back home. I came home thinking he might still be alive. I called my husband who was out of town for a training workshop and told him the news. My husband had worked with our neighbor from time to time, piddling stuff, but not often. Not often enough. Mostly, they might cross paths while cutting trees or doing other yard work. Mostly, a wave of the hand, a smile, a holler.

Christmas cookies and Christmas cards were exchanged between each season. When our dogs visited them, they'd give them a treat , and when their dog was alive, I treated her likewise. A few phone calls to check up on each other from time to time. But mostly, where we live, we all have jobs, and we are seldom home during the day. When people are working all day, and running around on weekends, there isn't much time to be real neighborly.

Although, in this neighborhood, there are a few of us who do like to keep the connections strong, and so we have summer ice cream parties, and winter sledding parties (when it snows), and some have Christmas Caroled, one year a neighbor organized a luminary party to line our streets with luminaries made from gallon milk jugs. What an endeavor that was! There are Girls' Night Out a couple times a year. Not enough. There are bonfires at one neighbor's house, and, just lots of brief little moments when we do come together.

Mostly, what brings us together is extreme weather.  Hurricanes, ice storms, and tornadoes have brought us together. Everyone knows their neighbor when the weather rampages. People check up on each other, share water, share heat, share food. When you get snowbound for a week without power, it's good to have neighbors. My dogs and I had to sleep in the home of one of our neighbors (who happen to be best of friends) during one particular power outtage a few years ago when an ice storm trapped the south east. They had fuel heat... I had electric. It was an enjoyable adventure to share those days and nights with them like that. My husband wasn't there for that experience because he was icebound at work. He had slept in a motel room near his workplace.

And now I'm reminded that when your neighbor dies, it matters. Even though we seldom came together, and our paths seldom crossed, we were there when we needed each other. There's security in that. Security to know that right next door is a man or a woman who can contribute something in way of friendship, conversation, opinions, news, or even a "hey!" and a wave of the hand. You borrow a gallon of water, get a cup of coffee, a bite to eat. You help your neighbor cut the trees that fell in his yard, and he helps you cut the trees that fell across your driveway.

I rely on my husband as much as my neighbor's wife relied on him. But he's gone now. I can't imagine... I don't want to imagine... my life without my husband with me.

Yes, when I think of my neighbor dying, I think of my husband, and then I cry because he is my best friend. In the end, he is my best friend. I don't want to lose him like that. But the reality is that one of us is going to lose the other, if not like that, like something else. One way or another, one day, one of us is going to not wake up, or collapse suddenly, or be killed in a car accident, or die of some disease, or whatever... something is going to take us away, and life as we know it will never be the same.

So I know only to be kinder, to be more loving, to say what is good, and do what is good, and to encourage, and to support.

May my mouth never say another thing that could harm the image of another. May my ears never hear another word that slanders another person. May my eyes never see the darkness in a person, but only what is good and true in them.

Thereby, others may not harm me with their words, nor hear slander against me, nor see only my faults, for faults I have many, but see the good in me.

I'm baking lasagne to take over to the family tonight, and an apple pie which I bought because I didn't have time to bake one fresh. There are many cars coming and going next door. It is dark and raining. There will be many hungry people visiting, comforting, grieving over the next few days.

This is one of those times when the neighbors get together to help out. I thank God for my friends and neighbors. For the ones I often talk to on the phone and for the ones I seldom see.