Being Neighborly

Now, you need to know that my house once belonged to my grandparents, and my elderly neighbors moved in shortly after my grandparents did in 1945. My mom grew up with their daughters and I have know the family my entire life.

Just before we left for camp, the elderly gentleman next door passed away. He passed on Thursday. His wake was Friday and he was burried on Saturday. His wife and daughters were surrounded by friends and family for those days, but it's never long before everyone else goes back to the normal life, while his wife is left alone with her grief and, thankfully, her daughters. Sunday, when everyone else had gone, I though it would be a good day to drop by with a nice big tray of Baked Ziti. It was met with a chorus of "you shouldn't have" and "you didn't need to". One of the daughters then said, "You know what? I'm glad you did". frankly, so am I.

I should have and I did need to. It made me feel better to help them. The widow is to weak to be cooking, even in the best of circumstances. I do'nt know about anyone else, but I'm barely interested in eating after losing a loved one, nevermind cooking. BUT if the food is there....

Sometimes, neighbors are still neighbors. We live in a community and we need to share our gifts and reach out to help one another. Perhaps we all need to start watching Mr. Rogers again...

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