Pockets of Life

My condo development consists of five towers, two of which are within view of my windows.  This of course leads to a tendency for me to look out and see what my neighbours are up to.  It becomes more prevalent at night, when the lights are on.  One night, I looked across to one of the towers and saw that three families were at home, going about their business at the same time.  These three units were stacked one above the other, which was interesting because although the floor plan was exactly the same, they were very different in terms of what colours they chose for their floors, what style of couch they decided to purchase, and where they decided to put their lamps and tables.  They were like little bubbles or pockets of life, happening simultaneously, each the same but different.  It made me think of what other pockets of life were happening now, above me or below me, or all around the world.

The past couple of weeks have made me think about life a lot.  I guess that always happens when a life ends.  My very good friend lost her father to a long struggle against cancer.  After an attempt at treatment, it was determined that there was nothing that could be done.  We waited for the news, and though I had a miniscule amount of hope after weeks and months had passed with no further deterioration, we all knew it was inevitable.  She's the first of my close friends to lose a parent.  Another reminder that time marches on.

This week, I received the news that my family's neighbour passed away.  She and her husband had been our next-door neighbour for my entire life.  A nice elderly couple who invited us over to use their pool on hot summer days, and to pick raspberries when they had an abundant crop.  I had seen them less often after I moved out on my own, but the couple of times I saw them in their front yard, I noticed how much older they looked.  She had been handing out candy with her daughter on Halloween.  She went to bed that night with her husband.  Early in the morning, she went to the washroom, came back to the bed, and fell over.  She was almost 87 years old, and on the verge of becoming a great-grandmother.  With my parents and youngest brother on the other side of the world, my other brother and I went to the visitation to represent our family.  She had lived a long and interesting life, another unique pocket in the world.

Wherever you are, I hope you're doing well in your pocket of life.

"And death is at your doorstep, and it will steal your innocence, but it will not steal your substance"