Don was my neighbor… down the road… on the left. I met Don when we were coming home the night of Mary Ann’s Celebration of Life in ’22 (Kateri’s mom). Well, I actually met him after we had gotten home… were there for about 5 minutes… and then got back into the car… and drove back down the hill to his house… in the middle of the night!
Amanda and I were in separate vehicles for the final leg of returning from the Celebration of Life. When we pulled into the driveway and got out of our respective cars, I asked Amanda, “Did you see the light on, and door open at the house across from the Church?”. To which her reply was, “Ummm, I think I saw a leg…?.. kind of sticking up in the air..?.. maybe?”… and then we had a brief discussion and came to a quick consensus of what a “Good” person would do in our situation. So, we told Xander the Dog “We’ll be right back”, grabbed the keys to the Cute Little Jeep Renegade, and went to go check on a neighbor.
Once we got 2 point five miles down the road to the Church, I flipped a bitch in the little turn around there and pulled up to the front of the house. We could see from the light in the kitchen that the front door was open, but the outer glass storm door was shut and there was someone laying on their back on the concrete slab of a porch. There was a small dog in the kitchen checking out the scene through the glass door and we noticed that it was attached to a leash… which the person on the porch… flat on their back… on the other side of the door!… was holding the other end of…! It was one of those instances where that little voice in your head asks, ” what the heck are we getting ourselves into…?”
The cool night air rushed into the cab as Amanda rolled down the window and loudishly said, “Hello…?”. Through the darkness we heard the faint and somewhat gruff response of, “Hello?” come from across the front yard. “Are you OK?”, Amanda called out the window. “No.” was the response. “Do you need help?”…. “Yes.”. “Do you need us to call an ambulance?”… “No.”. So, we pulled into the driveway, stepped out into the chilly night, and jumped headfirst into a situation and experience that would have lasting effects on all three of us.
When I got to him, I tried thinking of all the emergency/CPR trainings I have gone through at various jobs to figure out the best way… and quickest… to assess the situation. When we reached the porch, I introduced myself and Amanda to the person laying on the cement, his eyes kinda glassed over along with grass, twigs, and cobwebs stuck to his fleece Patagonia jacket and pants. At that moment… we officially met Don… as he laid on his front porch.
Now Don was a good-sized man, but we were able to sit him up where he could lean against a post. We were also able to remove the leash from his wrist so that the little dog on the other side of the glass door could finally walk more than three feet away from the entrance… and maybe drink some water! At that point, I could smell alcohol pretty distinctly. I haven’t had a drink in 17 years… so it can be pretty noticeable. I started going through questions I thought an EMT… or anyone else who knew what the heck they were doing!… would ask.
“Are you hurt?”…. “No”.
“How long have you been out here?”… “Not sure.”.
“Are you on medications?”… “Yes.”.
“Have you been drinking?”…. “Yes.”.
“Do they mix?”…… “No.”…. crap.
That wasn’t really the answer I was hoping for!… but this was the situation Amanda and I had just put ourselves in and we knew we had just committed a fair amount of time to it since we were aware Don had no intentions of going to a hospital or having anyone who deals with these sorta things come and help. So, Amanda grabbed another layer from the car and the three of us simply sat on the cold concrete as Amanda and I learned a bit about the man we would wave to on the drive home when he was sitting in his rocking chair “Watching the world pass him by”… and Don learned that he has neighbors who care enough to stop.
It was a long hour and a half as the chill of the night started to creep past our coats and our butts went numb from the cold concrete. I could see Amanda’s teeth chatter here and there as she would turn away so that Don didn’t see. We were really just buying time until we felt Don was in good enough shape to make it back inside and call it a night as we filled that hour and a half talking about… well… Life. We kept it basic. We kept it light. Just three people getting to know a tiny, tiny, tiny bit about each other… when we would normally be sleeping. It was nice… given the circumstances… and thankfully ended with Don reunited with his pup inside his house and us welcoming the heat blowing from the vents of the Cute Little Jeep as we made our way back up the hill to The Schoolhouse.
We stopped by the next afternoon to make sure Don had made it through the night ok. Honestly, given the shape he was in the prior night, we weren’t sure how much he would even remember! Fortunately, he remembered most of it. Over that summer I stopped by a couple of times just to check in and shoot the shit for a bit. We learned that Don ran the food shelf for years and was very active in the community in years past. He had a PhD. and was passionate about Environmental Research and Protection. He was proud of his French and Native American heritage. He enjoyed music, and maps, and travel. He was compassionate and enjoyed stimulating conversations. He had family… but he didn’t dive too deep into those relationships… and I didn’t pry. He loved his pup and sitting on the porch. After our evening of getting to know each other, I loved waving to my neighbor as I slowed down around the bend in front of the Church and would catch him sitting in his rocking chair.
Come to find out, Don quit drinking after that initial night of introductions. We had noticed that he looked thinner and after he told me he gave up the sauce, I thought that was the cause of the weight loss… which I’m sure played a part but come to find out… he was also sick.
This spring and summer we saw less and less of Don on the commute home. Through friends and neighbors, we learned that he had gone into assisted living… and then into hospice. Many a times I thought of going and visiting him, but I got caught up in my own life and quite frankly didn’t prioritize or make the effort to let him know the impact he had on me. I wish I had gone to visit… to have one more conversation… to be there for him… even if it was only for a minute… an hour… or two. But I didn’t and sometimes that’s just the way it goes.
Don died at the end of July. I got the text from a friend down the road who sent me the obituary from the local paper. His service was gonna be on a Saturday and I knew I wasn’t gonna be able to make it. Life and Death are all around us all the time in varying degrees and proximity. Don definitely made and impact on my life, but our relationship was very brief and limited. I wish I would’ve been able to just take off work and attend the formal remembrance of a man who gathered memories and experiences over the 87 years he traveled this land until finding his final home in our little area of the world… but I couldn’t… and I was ok with that.
Don was buried in the old ass cemetery across the street from his house next to the church. When I got out of work on the day of his service, I stopped to pay my respects and to thank him for what he had given me. I was the only person there… standing before his massive tombstone. It was quiet. It was sunny, but cool. It was peaceful. I thought how wonderful it was that he didn’t have to travel far from his home to get to his final resting place. It made me think about my own life and mortality… and where I want to be when I get to the end of my own road.
Standing in the West Fairlee Center Cemetery surrounded by the lush green foliage and softness of the Vermont summer, I decided to accept the decisions I have made in the recent past, and in turn, the outcomes of those decisions. I haven’t always made the best choices, but in life, sometimes the process is the important part to reach the best possible outcome for yourself. Life is one long learning experience. The opportunity to make our lives as close to how we want it to be… who we want to be!… happens from the moment we wake up till the moment we lay our heads down to rest… but it takes work… and is everchanging. I’m sad I don’t have the option to swing by Don’s on the way home and sit uncomfortably on the bench as he shares stories involving this or that or states for the fifth time that he’s “Watching the world pass him by” and I wish I took the time to visit him towards the end, but I am grateful Amanda and I made the decision to get back in the car… in the middle of the night… to go and check on a neighbor.
Widower Notes n Thoughts:
- Be kind.
- Make good decisions.
- Do what’s right.
- Try not to be an asshole… but recognize when you are. (Usually, it’s not the end of the world.)
Thirty Days of Mo(u)rning 