Thanks to an Angel

Thanks to An Angel

Neighbors.  We all have them.  We like some of them, ignore some, and put up with others.  You probably have a neighbor that you only wave to when you walk by.  You don’t know their name nor do they know yours.  Perhaps you say hello or allow the respective dogs to sniff approval of each other. 

I had such a neighbor.  She was a beautiful, athletic, energetic, younger woman that I had seen in the neighborhood for years.  I saw her exercising at a pace that would be impossible for me.  She walked with her children, or her dog and sometimes both.

I watched her decorate the outside of her home for Halloween and Christmas.  Year after year she created scary or beautiful scenes depending on the season.

During my occasional efforts to exercise, I would wave to her as I walked by but seldom spoke.  Why?  Because when I’m honest with myself, which is most of the time, I am a reclusive, introverted person.  Not good I know but it is what it is and I have been this way for years.  And no, therapy hasn’t helped me much and neither has medicine.

Little did I know that eventually our two worlds would collide.  We would meet under very trying circumstances and we would become good friends.  Other than the fact that we are both women and mothers, we have very little in common.  What we do have in common is Ben and our love for him. 

Ben is my grandson who is now 2 ½ years old.  His mother passed away after childbirth and for the first two years of his life my husband and I raised him.

On a spring day and tired of being stuck in the house with a new baby, I decided to walk to the mailbox a few streets away.  I was driven to tears with frustration as I tried to figure out how to attach the infant carseat to the stroller.  Since I didn’t trust my efforts, I walked with a death grip on the carseat to the mailbox.

On my way home, this neighbor came running out of her house, barefoot and asked if this was the baby.  Apparently, my husband who has never met a stranger had talked to her and told her about Ben.  I was sleep deprived, depressed, grieving and on the verge of tears because I couldn’t even figure out how to attach a stupid carseat to a stroller.

This neighbor, who was pretty much a stranger to me, pushed the stroller home.  When we got to my house, I told her that it was time for Ben’s bottle and she volunteered to feed him. I knew this woman, but didn’t know this woman.  Still, I let her into my house and she fed Ben while she rocked him to sleep.  My world was quiet for a moment.

My neighbor stayed to talk and the longer we talked, the more I had to say.  My words gushed out of me like lava from a volcano.  And I cried.  That’s not true, I didn’t cry, I sobbed.  I had so many bottled up emotions and once I blew the top off, there was nearly no end to my emotions.  All of this honesty given to a perfect stranger. 

She offered to keep Ben overnight or help out on weekends and her offer was balm to my soul.  She told me her name was Kim and she asked me to call her when I needed help.  Then it was truth time for me so I told her that I was somewhat reclusive, that I didn’t like to call people and that new situations and people were hard for me.  She understood and didn’t judge.  Why I would tell a perfect stranger about my particular quirks still amazes me. 

The events of that day are permanently etched in our minds.  Kim and I have shared and loved Ben for the past 2 years.  We have worked through and around busy schedules (hers not mine), bad weather, vacations, illness and holidays.  We have swapped clothes, bottles, diapers, carseats and toys back and forth.  We have kept track of doctor’s appointments, counseling appointments (mine not hers), medicine, eating and diaper habits, good days and bad ones.  We even developed a “honk and holler” system when she kept Ben overnight and I picked him up the next morning to take him to daycare. 

In time Kim and I became friends and had more to talk about then just Ben (although he was a primary topic) went to dinner, drank wine, saw movies, took a cooking class and talked.  Kim is a friend who has seen me at my worst and didn’t leave.  I believe Kim is an angel. My angel.  I can’t explain the whys or hows, but an angel nonetheless.  At a time when I was at my lowest point and needed a friend, I practically stumbled over her.  Heavenly intervention?  I don’t know.  Fate?  Probably.  I know there was a reason this wonderful woman came into my life.  More importantly, she stayed in my life and for this I will always be grateful.  Thank you Kim.