My elderly neighbor across the street is the heart of the neighborhood. He is a funny guy who always has a friendly greeting for me as we make our trips to the mailbox and has a million stories to tell me about his adventures through life.

But, I have all kinds of stories about him as well and was telling his son some of them the other day. Like the time he ran over my mailbox and came very sheepishly with a new one and was shocked when I told him to just give me money for more cement to restore the bunker I currently have…

Or the annual ritual of his inviting us over to get our fill of tangerines from the tree he has in his backyard. It is a simple event but always fun because he takes such pleasure in using a tool that allows him to reach up and grab tangerines from the very top of the tree.

His son laughed and laughed as I gave him a side of his father that he did not know. I mention all of this because my neighbor may not remember these events. His son told me he has Alzheimer and is only able to visit his house periodically now.


I thanked his son for telling me and told him on his father’s long journey into night he should always remember that no one ever dies as long as they live on in the memory of others, and though his father might not remember… I would remember for the both of us!