It began with little changes. At first, I noticed his cat seemed to be outside more often. Then the strange cars began to appear. I assumed family was visiting. Yesterday an oxygen vendor made a stop there. Today, another car was there. Its license plate holder bore the word, "Hospice." Now it makes sense. My neighbor is sick. Leaving-the-world-soon sick. I feel guilty. I've never talked to him. All I know is not much. One should not live feet away from another human and know so little. Observation shouldn't be the lifeblood of my memories of a man making ready to die. Goodbye to the man who lives in the house with its bright turquoise trim. Goodbye to the lawn mowed in perfectly straight rows. Goodbye to front-porch whirlygigs glinting in the sun. Frost said, "Good fences make good neighbors." Why, then, do I feel so bad?
So moving and such a sad truth for almost anyone! I know just a little of my neighbours...Enough to say hello...Beyond that, I know almost nothing...And yet, we are there for one another in a time of crisis. I found that out when help was needed.
ReplyDeleteSad.
ReplyDeleteIn the city where I live I know the faces of my neighbors but not their names. At home in the countryside folks even know the names of each other's dogs.
Thanks for dropping by my nook.
It's hard to see our neighbour's real lives perhaps..who knows what really goes on behind those fences and doors..with people left who care maybe the world won't turn into completely isolated pockets..the writing and picture were tender as a butterfly..I wonder if he might like to read it? Jae
ReplyDeleteWow,I love that blog post - so sad and true and thought-provoking ...
ReplyDelete