I’ve lived in this little brick house with my husband for 14 years. Our little house is situated on a quiet cul-de-sac with like styled little brick houses. It’s quiet here. It’s a good place to have children. Very little happens here, other than day to day events; we like it that way.
When I moved into the house my husband owned, he was an established resident. He was a widower, and his wife and he lived in this little house for almost 20 years before I knew him. He knew the neighbors, watched their children (those that had them) grow up to have children of their own. I enjoy the “smile and wave and have a few words in passing” community atmosphere I came to.
As life grew busier with the arrival of our daughter, our world seemed to grow smaller. Soon, waves were less frequent, and one neighbor became more hermit like and frankly became quite eccentric with his behavior. I started avoiding being outside when I saw him because he would likely have a complaint about one thing or another. Looking back I feel a little guilty.
Our neighbor passed away, alone in his little brick home. It took us (his neighbors) a while to realize that we hadn’t seen him in a while, and unfortunately the reason we started wondering was another neighbor noticed the odor. After a call to 911 our suspicions were confirmed. The man who kept to himself, had died, alone and unnoticed. This breaks my heart. Not because he was a wonderful person, but because no matter how unfriendly a person is, no one deserves to go that way.