On Saturday as I was picking up after my garage sale, I looked across the street and saw my neighbor, Leslie, outside setting the sprinklers up. Her big black dog Abby was also outside. I wondered if she would yell across the street and ask how my garage sale went, but she didn't. I didn't really think much of it. This was one of those people you live next to, but really don't know much about. There's always a friendly wave, or a quick "hello", when you pass, but that's about it. I didn't even know her last name. My wife is much friendlier, so she at least spoke with her more than I did. Normally this would be no big deal, but that Saturday afternoon when I saw her outside with her dog, that would be the last time I would see her. She went to work that afternoon and died. She died of natural causes at age.....41. Who the hell dies of natural causes at age 41? That's enough to slap some sense into you, when mortality takes away someone who didn't seem to be going to die any time soon. It's not like it was a freak accident or something. The neighborhood is stunned, her dog is without a mom, and I'm wondering why bad mitten is an Olympic sport. See, life's priorities are all messed up.
Posted by monkeyinabox ::: |