Apr 24, 2008 | 3:58 AM
Category:
News
The story of the elderly woman that was found dead and mummified in the home she shared with her sister touched me in a way that few others have lately. There has been so much murder and mayhem lately in the Metro Detroit area that it's hard to keep up. But this stayed with me. This one will be memorable.
Since I do not know these women personally, I can only speak from what I understand from the news report. Inference.
These sisters shared a home that they had lived in all of their lives. They had no known relatives and the surviving sister has mental problems. They are both in their eighties. That basically summed up their lives on the news report .
The thoughts that saddened me today was that not one neighbor popped in from time to time to check on them. Not until they realized they had not seen them in a "long time." Not for a grocery run nor snow removal or to pick up solicitations that may have piled up on the property. How do I figure this? Well. If anyone had done any of these things they would have surely smelled the rotting corpse. They would have asked questions....Something !
So many questions that have no pat answers.
I know the elderly can be a bit cranky at times. I realize that we are all busy with our own lives and that there are just not enough hours in the day. " I don't get in other folks business." "I don't want to appear nosy." I know there are many reasons as to why not.
However, there are so many reasons as to why someone should have. It's simply called being a good neighbor. It's the way we are supposed to treat one another and especially our elderly. They made it. They traveled through the storms of life that we are passing through. They passed this life on to us.They deserve to live their golden years with us looking out for them. They should garner our respect and reverence.
I find that the simplest kind deed done for my senior neighbors are greatly appreciated. I get just as good as I give.
My neighbor Bill is a man full of pride and I know it bothers him that I pull his one little half filled trash can out on Sunday evening and put it back in the yard on Monday after the pick-up. I just do it and make no bones about it. How could I not after watching him ambling along making short steps that causes his back to ache. I'll ask him for his advice on repairs around my house so he feels he's giving something in return. I listen when he tells me how I should trim hedges, even though I've been trimming them for years. His wife is suffering from dementia so I sit and just let him talk about his days at Chrylser. During the summer months he insists that I take a seat in the driveway. I get the chair. I sit. I have so much to do at home, but I listen to him tell me about the neighborhood some 30 years ago. I listen to the stories of how his immigrant parents came here from Yugoslavia so long ago. I listen to how he met his wife. She sits there and hardly makes a peep. I speak to her as if she is listening to our conversation. He has repeated some of his stories many times, but I patiently listen because I actually enjoy our conversations. And Bill's got jokes. Our sit downs ends with me laughing at one of his stories. The exchange is good for both of us. I still manage to get my work done.
Then there is my girl Rose. She is as feisty as they come. Surely a firecracker in her heyday ! She lost her husband some 20 years ago. I've had to call her to ask her if she intended to leave the trunk to her car open. She makes sure that I get my fill of fresh veggies from her garden all summer. We sit and sip our coffee and talk about her grandchildren living up north and her days as a Michigan Bell operator. She's very active in her church and lives a pretty full life. Yet, she is an elderly neighbor and if I don't see her doing something around her house, I know to call or tap on her door. So far there have been no problems.
We look out for one another in our own way. I think it's just neighborly. I know people that don't know the names of their next door neighbors. Forget about the ones across the street. Such a change from the "good old days." The days when neighbors were neighborly. The days when we were our neighbors keepers.