I’m crying right now. Quietly, because I’m sharing the schoolroom with three of the four kids and it upsets them to see me, but yeah, I’m crying. My old next door neighbor (old as in ex, not age) passed away yesterday. I didn’t even know she was sick, let alone dying.
When we moved to this house almost 14 years ago, the house next door had two little girls, a mom and a grandmom there. I put my foot in my mouth when I asked the little girls if they stayed with their dad (assuming divorce) and they matter of factly told me that he was dead. Gulp! Sorry!
That mom and those girls became my ROCKS when the kids came home. The girls helped out with the babies–going from playing with them, to being “mother’s helpers”, to babysitting. The mom was the older, more experienced mom that all of us need to have–someone to turn to with those everyday questions and problems and “should I wait it out or go to the pediatrician?” type things.
When they moved exactly four years this month, my heart broke. We swore we would keep in touch. In the way of things, we grew apart. We saw each other a few times, but just lost touch. And now she’s gone. Today her nephew posted on Facebook that yesterday she passed away. No information as to why, or what happened, just that she is gone. And I’m so sad. For myself, sure. Because that friendship meant so much to me. But also for her daughters, who are in college and grad school and are now without either father or mother. It just breaks my heart.
I know she’s in heaven. She loved the Lord with her heart and soul and mind. She’s with her husband, whom she had been parted with way too early in life. But oh, it’s not supposed to be like this. It’s supposed to be “old and full of years.”
And so I cry.