Made some dinner, ate it on the back porch because it's a nice night, and prepared for a quiet evening and early bedtime. Busy day tomorrow plus there are some showings, so I need to clean the house a little.
Around the time I cleaned up dinner, the doorbell rang. It was my neighbor. Not the neighbor I usually mention; the one on the other side of me. I figured she was paying a social call to find out about the For Sale sign in the yard.
Boy, was I wrong. Her husband died yesterday. The sweet large man who grows tomatoes and loves Jesus. He died a horrible painful death of kidney cancer, which was diagnosed 2 weeks ago.
She basically was like, "Hey I don't want to be alone and my son doesn't fly in until midnight so I think you should come over."
So without hesitation, I went next door. We spent the whole night talking.
They were married 50 years. He proposed on their 2nd date. They used to have a sailboat. They both just retired. Life changes in an instant.
Yes, she asked about the For Sale sign. When I told her about Chris, she immediately guessed why our relationship didn't work out. She understood completely and without explanation. It was literally like a breath of fresh air.
We both got tired and we both mentioned that it was getting late, but she didn't make any moves to get up so I sensed that she wasn't ready to be alone. I waited to leave until her son walked in the door. I shook his hand and offered condolences and apologized for being the strange woman in his parents' house at one o'clock in the morning.
When I walked into my house I discovered that in my immediate departure I left the back door open so there are a bunch of junebugs and moths everywhere.
But, you know, it's really okay.
Roomba can handle that tomorrow while I drink my coffee and ponder why I keep getting startling reminders that life is short.
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