Rest In Peace, Mary
Monday night, I heard what sounded like a high voice just going and going, though I couldn't hear words. I know now that it was intense crying. I looked out the window and saw an ambulance. Staunchly against being 'that' neighbor, I went back to what I was doing. C found out today that the ambulance was there taking away the body of our neighbor. Mary, 57 years old, always with the best advice on the garden, always sweet and just interested enough to make you feel like she cared but not so much that you felt intruded upon. No one had any idea anything was wrong. She'd been taking care of her husband Pat for the past several months since his quadruple bypass. She seemed healthy as anyone, I always wondered what she'd do once he died. He said they'd worked in the yard (they were fanatical about their plants), gone grocery shopping, got home at five and she was dead by seven. A heart attack. He said she died in her own bed, like she'd always wanted to, and the EMTs couldn't revive her. Gawd. What is he going to do now? I feel so bad for him, I wish there was something I could do. I told him I wanted to make something for him but that I didn't know what dietary restrictions he was under and he said 'DON'T!', they have enough food to last two lifetimes and nowhere to keep it, he said with a sad, forced kind of chuckle. It's amazing how helpless one feels after death of another. I like to think that one doesn't feel this bewildered when faced with death instead of on the outskirts of it. I hope her last moments weren't fearful and that she finds peace.