dona's 365

P7040014 Originally uploaded by donapatrick . Occasionally curmudgeonly, Bob is the patriarch of the neighborhood. He’s a card-carrying “tree-hugger”, master gardener, environmental activist, and dog lover. His yard holds only native plants, and not a speck of grass. Oh, and he’s the lead in our neighborhood parades. We can all learn a lot from this octogenarian.

Still handsome and active at 75 or so, Sue ’s husband Lou climbs ladders to clear his gutters in windstorms and to make sure the roofers are doing their job. He’s a regular golfer and gives well thought-out advice about nearly everything -- but only when asked. Even teenagers find him fascinating.

Barry’s a runner, and a stay-at-home dad, although a veterinarian by trade. Robin works from home full time as a sales rep. Theo, their adorable 2 year-old, is madly in love with Clare. The three of them moved in almost a year ago – we couldn’t ask for better next-door neighbors.

Michael, who we’ve known for years, has always seemed even-tempered and levelheaded. Imagine my surprise when he was the loudest in a shouting match last night at the meeting between the neighborhood and hospital. Not that the hospital administrator didn’t deserve to feel pain; it wasn’t a well thought-out action.

Mrs. O'Brien proudly sports a Bush/Cheney decal on her bumper. It stands out on a street of mostly liberals. Even after 15½ years on the same street, she still asks me who I am every time we meet, then apologizes for not buying Girl Scout cookies from Clare in 1999.

I spent the first 13 years in this neighborhood thinking Senta didn’t like me. She never said much when she walked her dog past our house. I thought she avoided me at neighborhood gatherings. Then after someone told me she was shy, I understood. Now we talk whenever we meet.

Our neighbor, Sue, blames NIH for the cancer that has touched four of her five children. One son died of Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. One daughter survived breast cancer, the other, uterine cancer. Another son survived testicular cancer. She also cites cancer cases of similar-aged people who grew up in the neighborhood .

Overheard when I was sixteen: “I’m living on borrowed time,” said the elderly neighbor who had the yard sale, “I should have died six months ago.” I don’t know how long she lived after that, but I bought a cookbook from her and remember her when I cook from it.

A truck driver, Karen ’s husband, Mike, parked his 18-wheeler in front of his house. When Karen was pregnant he rode my brother ’s skateboard and broke his foot. He served in Vietnam but didn’t like to discuss it. I understood when, while babysitting, I saw some photographs he’d taken in Vietnam.

Next-door neighbor to my parents when I was a teenager, Karen reminded me of the eldest daughter in the movie version of Fiddler on the Roof. I babysat her children and had a slight crush on her husband . I mostly remember our girl talks while she ironed in the breezeway.

Mother and daughter, both named Yates, shared the house across the street. The younger, morbidly and dependently obese; the older, aging but resolutely independent. When the daughter died, the mother developed a slight spring in her step. She had shed the weight on her shoulders in more ways than one.

A one-time professional singer, Freda lost her singing voice due to an infection. She lived next door to the house we rented in Alexandria, Virginia. Despite being an octogenarian when I knew her, she had a child-like quality about her that some people found somewhat annoying. I didn’t really mind.

She had a Model-T in her open garage and cardboard in her upstairs windows. I saw her twice in the three years we were next-door neighbors. When her mail began to pile up I wondered if she was ok. When the ambulance took away her body I knew she wasn’t.

A flight attendant and cancer survivor, Barbara made frequent trips to Mexico to buy altar decorations for her church. I knew Barbara was very religious, but was even more certain when I saw the five-foot brightly colored Jesus next to her bed when I took care of her six cats.