For close to a year we have lived in Kenmore. We live on a dead-end street with a large apartment building on the other side of the fence in our back yard. All last summer Mike and I talked to a neighbor on the other side of the fence when he was walking his dog. He’d always stop at our fence so his dog could sniff at Sitka.
Because of the height of the fence I could never see the neighbor’s face – or the dog’s for that matter. It was like that TV show with Tim Allen talking to his neighbor over the fence, but you never got to see the neighbor’s face. Yeah, just like that.
Over time, Mike had more conversations with this neighbor and his dog. And recently the man asked if Mike could take care of his dog for a week while he went out of town. Mike agreed and last weekend we were ready to have a dog in the house again.
But something went terribly awry. We were expecting the neighbor on Saturday and we waited and waited. By Sunday afternoon we still had not seen the neighbor. We presumed that he must have had a change in plans. We were not prepared to learn what actually happened.
For reasons unknown to us, the neighbor unexpectedly committed suicide in the early hours of Monday morning. We saw the fire trucks and first responders, but had no idea what was going on in the apartment building on the other side of the fence in our back yard during the middle of the night.
It was late morning when Mike called me at work to tell me what had happened. I was truly shocked. But even more overwhelming than the shock was the guilt.
Guilt because this neighbor on the other side of the fence had a name, but I hadn’t bothered to ask what it was. Guilt because this neighbor on the other side of the fence asked a favor and I didn’t go over and knock on his door when he didn’t show up on Saturday – or Sunday. Guilt because this neighbor on the other side of the fence must have been in such a bad space that he took his own life, yet I wasn’t even aware that he was troubled.
After Mike told me about the suicide, he told me about the note. The note that mentioned Mike. Yes, my Mike. And as Mike explained it to me over the phone, “Our world is about to get rocked…”
Sheets tell the story
4 weeks ago
5 comments:
Another reminder that time is one of our more precious possessions. And one to be shared.
Have you seen "Felipe"'s post today?
Well, you cannot leave us hanging. Mike was mentioned in what way?
As for guilt, I don't think you need to feel guilty.
I don't think that good fences make good neighbors... at least in this case. It would have been good to talk to him face-to-face. But no sense looking backwards.
I suspect you have a dog joining your family!
So sorry about your neighbor but you shouldn't feel guilty. It's a very sad thing. I hope you will be okay. Take care.
Steve,
Yes, it was odd that we both wrote about the same topic. And I’m always learning more about the meaning of time.
Señor Zapata,
By now you’ve most likely seen how Mike was mentioned. I think the guilt is part of the grieving process. And for me it’s part of the human being process.
Nancy,
Of course YOU would guess that we have a dog joining our family…keep reading and you’ll see how there was more than one critter involved in the changes in the ‘hood this week.
About the fence, we’ll need it again to keep Rock inside. But maybe we could have a block party and invite everyone!
Glo,
I think death affects everyone differently, based upon their life experiences. This experience hit me hard. Thank you for caring.
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