Another one bit the dust.

My neighbor across the street died last night. He was in his early 50s and didn’t look a day over 40. It was not unexpected. He’d been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in July. Actually, his was the third death due to pancreatic cancer in our neighborhood within the last year. The disease had reached stage four by the time it was discovered. His wife and son had a woman from their church move in to help. The support from his church and friends kept the family going.

On my 6 hour drive home yesterday, I passed about 4 cemeteries. Each one reminded me of my brother’s sudden passing last July and then I thought about my neighbor across the street. It was getting close. I’d been following and responding to his journal on Caring Bridge. I mentioned him to my mother not 10 minutes before calling his home to see if I can bring some dinner by for them. They told me he died, that it was a blessing. There was little the pain medication could do for him and now he didn’t have to suffer anymore.

We lived across the street for years. We participated in neighborhood pot luck dinners. I taught their adopted son about Mother’s Day and gave him flowers to give to his adoptive mom. Over the last 4 years, we lost touch. We waved to each other. Pot luck dinners in general stopped. The newer members of the neighborhood were younger and these pot luck dinners only served to make us uncomfortable more than bond the neighbors together. Time goes by fast.

Still, I can’t get over the guilt I feel for not having liked him at all from the word go. I had my reasons and they will stay personal. But, I didn’t let it show. I liked his family and to a certain extent, him by extension. Now that he is gone, I have to let this guilt go. I will be there, along with everyone else, their friends, extended family, and neighbors to help them mend. That’s the best I can do.

RIP C. I hope you made your amends.