Neighbors

March 25, 2011
Diane passed away peacefully this morning at 8:45. I was and always will be holding her hand.

Please inform our other neighbours as and if you are able.

Ann

Ann stood on her porch and shook her head. I did not know that she'd already emailed me the only words she had.

She told her friends, "John will feed me." And he has. We have.
We've stopped by and knocked on the door and made her dogs go nuts and left again, only to return, repeat, retreat, repeat.
She doesn't know if she will keep the house, stay in the neighborhood, leave the country.
Where should she be? They'd been together 30 years. Diane was home.

And all I can think about is the beauty - how strange is that? How beautiful their garden is, how stunning their love was(is!), how they laughed when Diane was sick, how Ann chastised her for giving too much, exhausting herself, for failing to give out. Theirs is a house in which one could safely wear a heart on a sleeve and carry it out in a palm. I think about the strength in Ann's step as she walks the dogs, how it somehow comes from Diane, and yet she is exhausting herself at Diane's bedside.

She said, last week, when Diane was alive, "I'm good." Then laughed. "This morning, a house was sitting right on top of me, but this afternoon she was better and now I'm walking the dogs."

What lies ahead is unknowable. Completely uncharted.

But this much I know: They got it right.

And at least for those of us watching from this distance, there is peace in that.