Death is different nearby

My next door neighbor died earlier this year, and it has been a new experience for me with death.

I used to think I had experienced a lot of death compared to most people. But now I’m 40, and at my age, everyone has seen some death, and many of my peers have certainly surpassed me. Many have lost a parent by 40, and I’m so fortunate to still have both of mine.

My neighbor was a good friend of mine, and his passing has made me realized that I had never experienced the absence of someone whose daily presence I’m used to. I didn’t see him every single day, but working from home, with my office window looking at his house, I certainly felt his presence. And for most of this year, I have also felt his absence on a daily basis. In some sense, I am grateful for the reminders, because as I get older, I get more practiced at compartmentalizing and getting on.

Most recently, I have watched as his sister came up from out of town periodically to handle his affairs and belongings. That’s a process I haven’t dealt with at all. I know it has been hard for her, because not only has she been sorting through his things, but because he bought the house from his parents, who passed on long ago, it has been a repository for the larger family.

Their cousin’s family just bought the house from his sister and is moving in. I’m really excited that the house will remain in their extended family for a third generation. Their legacy continues.