The metaphorical angel of death descended on our neighborhood last night and took my next-door neighbor, an elderly gentleman, leaving his wife an elderly widow.
He was the neighbor who owned the tree that started leaning precipitously over my house a couple years ago, and with whom we split the cost to have it taken down. He was the neighbor who a few years before that had a huge tree fall on and demolish his home, fortunately while he and his wife were away for the weekend. I had to call them and spoil their vacation by telling them they needed to come back to what was left of their house and take care of things.
He was one of the original residents of this neighborhood, raising his children here. Those children are now in their 50s and 60s. I've been next door to him for over 14 years now, but I'm sure he still considered me the "New Neighbor" next door.
Anyway, leaving the house this morning on my way to work, I saw that several cars were parked in front of his house, including a police car with its lights still flashing. I knew then that something bad was up, and as it turns out - small world - my neighbors are the aunt and uncle of my boss' wife, so I asked him to have his wife check things out, and she confirmed that, yes, Uncle Brooks had died early this morning.
When summoned
I will say farewell:
My house beneath the moon.
- Takuchi (d. 1846)
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