Neighbor by Jerry Durick
Neighbor At his funeral, we filled a whole pew. “The neighbors,” I heard someone say. Family and other friends made a modest crowd in a church that size at that hour, an hour just a few weeks ago he would have been out working on his lawn picking up this or that raking, sweeping, making his yard, his world a bit better than he found it. We, neighbors knew him that way, a nod, a wave a joke about whatever he or we were doing sometimes a longer visit little more, in that way he was there making our neighborhood, his world better than when he found it.