I Called My Neighbor

For my neighbor Julie

I called her because her husband had died

And she has to walk his aging dog in the early dark

When the fog is thick and her aging legs stumble.

I called her because we both live in echoing, empty houses

And her children live…away.

I called her because the silence pierces her heart, where it was once pierced by breathing machines, beeping monitors

and the plaintive calls from a husband with dementia, who had no idea who and where he was.

I called her.

We will never be friends;

We will never be close.

Our politics and religions don’t dance

she does the waltz, I jitterbug, and our rhythms can’t partner.

But I called her anyway

Because she cares for the neighborhood, watches our homes, waters our plants, and keeps us informed

She runs over if we need help. She is still the nurse, will always be the nurse.

Our politics and religion don’t matter when we bleed.

I called her because she is old and grieving, and she has given so much.

I called because her heart is bleeding

and to tell her she is not alone

and I will come running.

Photo by Andreea Popa on Unsplash

Thanks for these few seconds of your day. I hope they touched you where it matters, squarely in the feels. At a time when we need to be reminded of our humanity, I am all in for that. If you are, consider

If you have a friend or neighbor who needs to be reminded they are remembered, first, call them. Just do it. Then if it serves you, consider this

Above all, exercising our humanity pushes back the ugliness of the world. Let’s be there for each other.