Final Mention

December 9, 2005

It was Tuesday when our neighbor called. He's not really a sociable neighbor, in fact he's a crotchety old man who's alienated nearly everyone in the vicinity except us.

He called, not from his home next door, but from the cardiac unit of a hospital in a city 50 miles distant. Sometime in the recent past he had driven himself there to undergo an angioplasty, but ended up having open heart surgery. The problem was this- he was ready to be discharged, but had no one to drive him home. News to me that he had no family or friends to rely on... sort of surprising, but I guess that's the case.

This escapade, if we agreed to it, would take 2 drivers (since neighbor's car was at the hosp), so we explained to him that we could not pick him up until Friday because of our schedules and prior commitments.

So Friday morning rolls around, I get up and turn the TV on, and find out all the schools in southern Maine are closed because of a predicted snow storm. Intrepid individuals that we are, we decide to make the trip anyway and hope for the best. The heaviest snow wasn't supposed to arrive until afternoon, anyway.

Wrong. The heaviest snow arrived in the morning, and we were out in the middle of it. Mission accomplished, but not without some white knuckles. Not only do I hate driving in snowstorms, I also hate driving in cities. But I made it. In one piece. The 100 mile round trip 'only' took 4 hours.

December 11, 2005

Epilogue to journal entry 12/9 "White Knuckle Morning"

Morning again. My husband, who had just arisen, opened the front door and reached out to retrieve something from the stoop. I looked up from my position at the computer to see what it was. The front leaf of yesterday's newspaper, folded, wrinkled and slightly torn...

Before I could speak something slid out of the paper's folds and fell to the floor... money! A handful of green bills.

After puzzling for a few seconds I said, "I know what it is. Is there a note?"

Steve scooped up the cash and double checked the newsprint that had borne it to us. "No." he said, "No note. I TOLD him he didn't owe us anything!"

It could be that he was grateful. It could be that he was generous. But such a surreptitious delivery... with no note... The old man just didn't want to feel beholden to us. OK. Fair enough.

"Just gracefully accept it, and send him a Thank You note." I said quickly, knowing that Steve was weighing the option of returning the cash, and repeating to the old man that recompense was unnecessary.

"Let's split it, and give some to Amber too. The poor kid had to accompany me on the odyssey- four hours in the car and she didn't complain once." I said as he handed me the money.

As I slid my share into my wallet, it occurred to me that the amount was exactly equal to what I had spent on myself the day before, when I was supposedly Christmas shopping. Just couldn't pass up those necklaces in the gemstone store. "Well," I said to myself. "I'll consider the money spent, and look upon those necklaces as a Christmas present from our crotchety old neighbor."

October 28, 2009

Home from work, 8:30pm, hungry & tired, re-heating dinner, and half- listening to my hubby. “When I went out at about 5:00pm,” he said. I can’t remember where he said he was going. “I noticed the Fryeburg Police Dept. SUV in front of our neighbor’s place.” The crotchety neighbor, of course. “ I thought about turning around in case something was going down, but decided to continue on... If it was something serious that involved us, folks know how to contact me...”

A few minutes later he noticed that there was a message on the answering machine. A glance at the caller ID told him that a neighborhood friend had left a message for us. “Phone me when you get a chance.” the friend said. “Do you think it’s too late?” my husband wondered aloud. “No.” I said, “It’s only 8:30...”

Although the conversation that I listened in on was one-sided, I quickly caught the drift of the matter. Our crochety neighbor had been dead... for three weeks...

The Post Office had called on the Police to do a welfare check when he had not picked up his mail for an unusually long time.

“You know,” I heard Steve say, “How he hated anyone intruding into his business. Even if it was the most innocuous intrusion...”

Flashback to my pre-dawn walk this morning. For some reason I had made it my business to notice which houses in our neighborhood had lights on, and what type of lights they were... I had noted that the crotchety neighbor’s house was completely dark. Completely. Dark.