The Old Man That Lives Across The Street is Dying.

It took a simple act of kindness for me to be able to feel true gratitude.

An older couple, Dick and Jane live across the street from us. As neighbors go they are pretty great. When we first moved in Jane brought us a batch of homemade cookies.

Every once in a while we make small talk at the mailbox. Jane is a beautiful woman in her seventies. She appears to be active and healthy. From what I can tell their adult child lives out of state. She is a very Christian woman and never hesitates to invite me to go to church with her.

I always make sure she isn't at the mailbox when I return from my beer run. Sometimes I feel like a teenager trying to hide it from my parents. This is out of respect not shame of my behavior, mostly.

Dick is sick.

The last time we had met at the mailbox she had told me his last check showed that his cancer was gone. That was a few months ago. My anxiety gives me the amazing ability to avoid others. Since then I have noticed several visitors and hospice people. I know too well what that means.

Dick is dying.

I think that I know all the “right” things to do but I feel my anxiety kicking in and have been purposely avoiding my beautiful, lively, warm, Christian neighbor. I don't want to feel her pain and I know that I will. I don't know what she will do in her beautiful modest home, all alone.

For the first time, tonight I am making the the southern staple, chicken and dumplings. I have cooked and baked all day. I have the dumplings, crusty bread, and cupcakes almost ready to bring to her but something is holding me back.

Fear is holding me back.

Fear of having to face her pain.

Fear that as an older Southern woman, she will turn her nose down at my ill-fated attempt at a Southern staple comfort food.

Fear that I will disturb them during a precious vital time that they will not get back.

Dick is a special kind of man.

His yard is not just well maintained. It is immaculate. Not one blade of grass is out of place.

Lately, I have noticed something different. He hasn't been outside in months. That man is always out there come rain or shine. He ensures that there is not a single acorn left on his perfect circular, paved driveway. I am pretty sure I saw him on the roof a few months ago getting all those pesky acorns off his roof.

I know this is the time I need to swallow my anxiety and just be there so that she knows that I care. Caring isn’t ever a problem for me. It is just showing “strangers” that I care where the problem lies.

I want to do it and I will somehow muster up the courage to show her. I want my children to learn how to care about someone and how to be there for them. I want them to see their mother show that our neighbors matter.

Jane has been there for me. When I was working and my husband was working the night shift and failed to wake up when the bus dropped off our five-year-old, she was there. She was out there watching. Making sure he got home safely.

When the bus drops off your baby and there is no adult present (outside waiting for them) they will bring your baby back to the school for you to pick up.

This is a good thing and I appreciate the school for watching out for the tiny humans.

I finished my meal to get ready to take across the street. I tasted it and to me it was fine. It was not the best meal I ever made but still good enough to show that I put thought and love into the meal I would give them.

I had a drink (or two) and listened to AC/DC and Linkin Park for a minute while yelling at myself for not making a lasagna.

I packed up the food, the chicken and dumplings, a loaf of crusty bread, strawberry cupcakes, and some cinnamon rolls. The husband, the kids, and I then made the short trip across the road.

Both my husband and I felt the acorns under our feet as we walked our way up their driveway. We looked at each other and no other words had to be said. The Dick we had come to know and love from afar, was gone.

We rang the doorbell and waited. It only took a moment for Jane to come to the door. She answered the door and her eyes filled with tears. I grabbed her and hugged her. I told her that I was sorry and that we loved and cared for her. She held me tightly and for a moment I was able to share her pain. I felt her release as I held her. I knew at that moment that the food was a great gesture of kindness but what my neighbor needed was a hug. She needed to feel the warmth of another human as it had been weeks since she had felt any.

Her church days of hugging and socializing are on hold as now her days are filled with taking care of her sick husband.

Not just sick, dying sick. It is a different kind of sick. Those who have experienced it will understand what that means. Those that haven't, well I hope never have to.

I knew in that embrace that my simple act of kindness meant a lot to her.

The “quality” of my food didn’t matter. She didn’t have standards for those who were showing any type of love or affection.

I do hope my chicken and dumplings tasted good and comforted her on some level.

I hoped that she couldn't smell the liquid courage on my breath that I needed to look at her face, to look at the face and body of her dying husband.

I have hopes for the future that down the road I will join Jane for coffee on her porch. I will tell her all about my struggles with parenting and complain about my husband. She could be the mother that I no longer have and I could be her daughter that she needs.

She led me to think that when he passes she will move out of state to be with her daughter. I will miss her but I hope she does. I don’t want her to be alone. I want her to feel loved.

If she stays I will make myself a friend rather than just a neighbor. I love my stranger neighbor and feel strongly connected to someone who is so much different than me. No matter your age you always need someone more of an adult than you are.

I feel good that I went to visit. I hope she felt loved. I promised her I was always available for a warm embrace whenever she needed one.

I will always remember the feeling of the acorns crunching under my feet as my healthy family walked down their driveway and into our own. The feeling of true gratitude. This isn't the easiest time in my life and sometimes it feels like my world is falling apart. My family is happy and they are healthy. We have a warm house with food, love, and laughter

For that, I am truly thankful and can feel true gratitude.