A Loss for My Neck of the Woods

My 92 year old neighbor passed away on Saturday.

I just learned about it today.

I don't know why, but I've felt a pull toward him ever since I learned about him.

Maybe it's because I know that he was a character.

Maybe it's because I know he built his house himself on the corner of a dirt road and a more busy road that later became Highway 101.  (Sound familiar?)

Maybe it's because his name is Carl (like Grandpa Carl and my Carl).

I have often wished that I could go back in time to meet him as a young man, living a life I imagine was somewhat similar to ours.

Building his own home.  Living on acreage.  Raising a family.

From what I hear, his garden was massive and he'd share with all the neighbors that passed by.

He used to grow Christmas trees on his adjacent property- many people still talk about getting their trees from him, "Oh, you live next to the old Christmas tree farm?"...

For some reason, he's been very present in my thoughts this past week.  Mark even told me this morning that he'd just had a dream about him.

I kept meaning to bring down some homemade ice cream with fresh picked blackberries, or cookies- but I didn't carve out the time.

Just today I was trying to figure out when I could squeeze in berry picking and a visit to tell him hello.

I'm sad that I didn't do it quickly enough.

He was a fortunate man. 

His daughter moved home to care for him so that he could live out his life in the house he built and raised his family in.

She was so good and careful to make sure that he had the things that were important to him and fed his soul.  She kept the wood stove going all winter and made sure he had a chance to work in his garden in the summer.

I often wish that I could have been able to do something similar for my dad.

This neck of the woods is short one good person now. 

I hope that his soul is fulfilled and he is reunited with many loved ones.

I know I've learned a good bit about generosity and neighborliness from him, and will carry it with me always.  That's my promise to you, Carl.