MEET MY NEIGHBOR GLADYS

Meet my neighbor Gladys. I met her soon after we moved to Omaha from Oregon. My husband and I weren’t accustomed to the early wet, heavy snowfall. It looked like winter might go on forever.

On one of those nasty, knee-deep snowy days, we met Gladys’ husband, Bob—about 82 at the time. We later learned he’d survived a bout with cancer and a heart attack, but still he was out snow blowing the alley between our houses. Gary and I grabbed shovels and started helping and later, Gladys called us all in for coffee.

Later when I realized Gladys suffered from the winter ‘blahs’ I wrote funny poems for her. She enjoyed them and they brought a smile to Bob’s face, too. Somehow their smiles warmed my mired-in-winter- feeling-gloomy heart.

Both Gladys and Bob have passed away, but recently I read those old poems and today I found one of my last photos of Gladys. It was taken when her daughter surprised her with a visit to one of my book signings at Barnes and Noble—she was near 90. What a delightful surprise for both of us.

Of course, I have a new neighbor now and we correspond and visit. I even wrote her a poem, but my memories of Gladys are special. No one can fill that ‘Gladys’ spot in my heart. Funny how a photo can trigger beautiful memories, and remind us it’s time to build another memory for the future.

Think I’ll write an article: The Art of Being Neighborly