The Forgotten Neighbor

Sarah walked through the cemetery stopping on occasion to take a picture of a headstone and jot a few notes on her list. She enjoyed spending Sunday afternoons working on genealogy while her kids played at grandma's house. Sarah also helped others by taking pictures of headstones for a couple of websites in which descendants are able to make requests.

It was a beautiful crisp fall afternoon. Bright orange and yellow leaves covered the grounds and a few clung to mostly bare branches. The air smelled of snow.

This particular cemetery was a little further away, but Sarah was looking for a particular family member: her great-great-aunt on her mother's side. Her life was a bit of a mystery: she hadn't married and had no children; all that was known was an estimated birth year and died at 87 years old. Sarah wondered what her life had been like, if she had ever fallen in love, places she might have visited, how she watched the world change so much from mid-1800's to mid-1900's, things she enjoyed.

As Sarah walked along headstones, she spotted a mausoleum a few yards away with a hearse in front. That was her next destination, but she didn't want to disturb the service. As Sarah didn't see any other cars, she decided to check for her ancestor quickly and leave before the service started.

Sarah entered the simple but beautiful edifice. Something about it felt...sacred, reverent. The walls and floors were white and grey marble. Tombs were marked with metal name cut-outs; copper by the green tint and quite old by the aged font. Sarah noticed another name from her list and took the picture. Above it and to the left, she saw a familiar name. It was her great-great-aunt with full birth date and death date with cities and states for both. Sarah was elated as she noted the vital information.

As Sarah rounded the corner to leave, she noticed the casket with a gentleman standing at a small pulpit to the left. A dozen chairs sat in front of him, facing the casket. Empty. The gentleman, a pastor it seemed, motioned for her to have a seat. Feeling a little embarrassed to say no and sorry for the deceased, she took a seat in the back, hoping to slip out in a few moments. As she sat down, the pastor began speaking as if the room was full. "I would like to begin by thanking everyone for coming to celebrate Vernon Lucas Andrews life.” Sarah took another glance around. The room was still empty except for the two of them and the person in the casket. “Vernon Andrews was the most patient man I have had the opportunity to get to know over the past few years. Vernon was born…" The voice of the pastor faded as her eyes fell on the picture placed atop the simple wood casket. She seemed recognized him and began to try to remember how she knew him.

Suddenly, she remembered with such joy a loud gasp escaped her lips. He was the old man who lived a few blocks away from her childhood home. Her thoughts now drowned out the speaker. Although they never spoke, he waved at her every day as she walked to school and back home. His house set up a little higher than the sidewalk. The yard was always beautiful with lots of flowers and bright green grass. Sarah remembered waving back excitedly as a little girl and a bit more sheepish in her teenage years. He wore light colored jeans and a white t-shirt every day and sat in the same rocking chair on his porch every day. He was one of those simple consistencies in her life through its many ups and downs. Looking back, she realized he always seemed alone. Sarah wondered why.

The silence broke her thoughts and brought her back to the marble room. The pastor had finished speaking and was looking at her expectantly. A little embarrassed, Sarah stood up and excused herself. Before she could leave, the pastor asked her to sign the book on the table by the door. Sarah noticed a little black book on the table. She opened to the first page and saw the deceased gentleman's name at the top. As instructed, Sarah jotted down her name, address, and a short note "thanks for waving at me every day."

On the drive home, Sarah thought more about her ancestor and how she would be able to find more records and information. Her thoughts drifted to the deceased gentleman, to her former neighbor, curious about his life and why he was alone even at his funeral. She thought about the rocking chair and how it will sit empty now.

It was almost 4pm when she walked in the front door of her house. Immediately she could hear that her mom was already there with the kids, who were running around the house playing and laughing. Yesterday's mail sat on the entry table still unopened, most of them past due bills and a red envelope from the mortgage company that arrived early the past week. Sarah's husband, Jonathan, caught COVID-19 virus and with his pre-existing weak heart, endured long and painful symptoms. After two months in the ICU, he succumbed to the virus and died. It hardly seems like it was six months ago; time has gone by so quickly and so slowly. About a month before his passing, a state mandate had closed restaurants and most stores causing Sarah to lose her job and posed a greater challenge to find another. She married right out of high school and soon became a mom; as Jonathan had a well-paying job, they decided it would be best for the kids if Sarah were a stay-at-home mom. Sarah glanced at the pile for one more brief second, gave them a little worried sigh, and left them untouched.

Sarah set the table and all sat down for dinner. The kids, ages 13, 6, and 3, regaled her of their adventures at Gwamma's house while enjoying the oldest's concoction. Amaris was already a talented and gifted artist and cook. Her dream is to open a restaurant gallery and every Sunday whips up something unique and (almost) always delicious. Rosie, the middle child, still had a slight lisp from a tied tongue despite surgery at age two. She couldn't say Grandma so Gwamma quickly stuck for all three kids. With her mouth full of her sister's new masterpiece, Rosie excitedly shared her pirate adventures of the afternoon. Joey chimed in during the conversation with "yeah," "me too," and shared his fun time as the shark trying to jump out of the water to bite Rosie. The kids love the ship treehouse playground Jonathan built the previous summer.

After baths, story-time, and tucking the kids in bed, Sarah sat with her mother and visited for a few minutes. Sarah shared her experience of finding her ancestor. Virginia wasn’t interested in genealogy, and just nodded. She also asked her mother if she remembered the old neighbor who had waved at her every day when she walked to and from school. Sarah remembered the house was white with a roof over the small porch, a blue door, and the rocking chair he seemed to have always been sitting in.

Virginia searched her memories, recalled him vaguely, and how he waved at all the school kids every day. Ginny shared that she recalled hearing a few stories about his life, mostly when she was in high school. She was a few years younger than his youngest son and would see all four of his sons around town, at games, and school events. Their mother was always there too, dressed really well, and very reserved and quite; she hardly talked to anyone. His work included lots of travel and he would be gone for weeks at a time; at some point, his wife left and took their four boys with her. Ginny shared that one day she saw the youngest boy in school and the next day he was gone; she never saw any of the boys or their mother again. She said it was rumored for a few years that he had killed them all but they were seen a few towns away; nonetheless, the rumors left him as a bit of a recluse. Ginny didn’t know what came of the boys or where they lived now. Sarah and her mom sat in silence thinking about this forgotten neighbor and how lonely he must have been, especially in his senior years.

The next morning, Amaris and Rosie left for school two blocks away. Sarah's neighbor picked up Joey for morning preschool. And Sarah sat down with a couple of local newspapers, a notepad, and her phone as she did every morning to look for employment. By 10am, she had scoured 3 newspapers and every job listing; so far, no luck as most require skills, experience, or education, although one might have interviews the following week for graveyard shift at a gas station off the interstate.

Joey came bursting through the door at 11:15am, prompt as ever. Sarah waved at her neighbor as she pulled the door closed and listened to Bubba talk miles a minute about the picture in his hand and the Cars band-aid on his knee. Sarah smiled with bittersweet emotion as she thought of how fast he is growing. The two sat down for peanut butter and honey sandwiches for lunch with a plate full of bananas, raisins, and grapes on the side. That boy loves his fruit!

A knock on the door surprised them both. They weren't expecting anyone.

As Sarah opened the door, with Joey helping, of course, she recognized the pastor from the mausoleum the day before. Confused as to his presence, she invited the pastor in and the purpose of his visit. As they sat down in the living room, he introduced himself as Pastor Jeff Reynolds and indicated that Mr. Andrews had appointed him executor of his estate and left a specific provision in his will. Sarah was still visibly confused but continued to listen. Pastor Reynolds opened his satchel and pulled out an envelope. He handed Sarah the envelope. Inside was a single piece of paper that read one simple sentence: I leave all of my assets to those who attend my funeral service, equally divided," signed and notarized. Sarah didn't quite understand what the letter meant. As Pastor Reynolds then retrieved the little black book from his satchel, Sarah recognized it from the ceremony. The pastor opened the book to the first page. Sarah recognized her entry. It was the only entry. The pastor explained that Mr. Andrews had left everything he owned to her as she was the only person to attend his funeral service. Pastor Reynolds then pointed to a bookmark in the little black book. Sarah followed his queue and opened to the page, where she found a list of assets and accounts to the value of $1,500,000.

Three month later, Sarah sat at the desk in her home office having just completed a very important meeting via Zoom. With the inheritance from her forgotten neighbor, Sarah paid off the balance on the mortgage and her husband's medical bills and caught up all of her expenses. She and her kids will always have a safe home and roof over their heads. She established college savings for her kids and a retirement savings for herself and made a significant donation to charities that had helped her when she needed it. Lastly, she established a nonprofit organization to bring young people throughout the community to "adopt" seniors in the community as grandparents so that no neighbor would be forgotten again as was her benefactor and former neighbor.

In his honor, Sarah named the organization Andrews Foundation so he would never be forgotten again.