When the kids and I came home from a trip to the library, we were approached by a man coming from our next door neighbor's house. He and his wife were there delivering Meals on Wheels, and they had discovered that our neighbor had passed away.
Our neighbor's name was Homer, and he was in his mid-nineties. He had just moved in about a month ago, his children had bought the house and had fixed it up for him. He was slow, but was still able to get around. He had a small dog named Toby. We would talk to him in the front yard or over the fence, but it seemed like we were always so busy. He made comments about us stopping by so Rosie could play with Toby, or suggested that we should see how his kids had fixed the house up. I'm sorry now that we never did so, we fully intended to "at some point." Last week when he found out where Bob worked, he told me how he had built airplanes as well. He started working at Boeing in 1941 and retired in the late seventies. I thought, "we really need to make sure we visit with him, he must have a lot of good stories." We were busy this weekend, so we put it off til later. Now it is too late.
Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.