The neighbor next door

Our next-door-neighbor is an elderly couple who we have often greeted in passing and made attempts to befriend. When we first moved in I took them some cookies and this past Christmas I prepared another plate of goodies to wish them a happy holiday. They are always kind and appreciative but have remained very private. They have told us in our brief conversations that they speak some English so when my Romanian is inadequate--which it often is--then we try in English. And by now you should have figured that this is Shannon writing! :-

Last summer I enjoyed seeing them work in the small garden they have claimed in the front of our building. Such serenity it offered them right in the middle of a bustling city. On the 21st of February (Naomi's birthday) we passed the gentleman as were walking up the stairs to our apartment. "How old is she now?", he asked. "Two years old today!", I responded. "Oh, well many happy returns to her", he said with a nod. I thought about how rare it was to hear that expression used any more, but also how nice it sounded. Although I didn't know it then, that was to be the last interaction we would have with our neighbor.

Two weeks ago there was a big commotion at their apartment and I saw an ambulance but wasn't sure what had transpired. The next day we saw 3 little candles lit outside their door, an indication that someone had died. For a few days we weren't sure which one of them had passed away, but then learned that the kind gentleman was gone.

We asked a few Romanian friends what the proper means of paying our respect might be. Even Catalin wasn't sure if we should take flowers or food. Some people said that we shouldn't do anything because it wasn't expected but I know how much Catalin and his dad appreciated it when people brought food to them after his mother's passing. Finally I decided to give her a pretty plant and some apple cake that Daniela and her friend had just made. They had wanted to do something for her too.

When we knocked on her door I wasn't sure what to expect. She had never opened the door so much as to even see inside, but this time was different. We told her how very sorry we were for her loss and that we wanted to give her these things in memory of her husband. She opened the door wide and practically pulled us in. "Please", she said, "sit down and have some juice. I'm so sorry that I never invited you in before." At this point I was surprised by two things. First of all, I had no idea she spoke English as well as she did, and secondly she began to tell us all about their life together.

She said that they had been married for 58 years and that he had been a journalist. Up until 1977 they had traveled a lot and had even lived in various countries like Yugoslavia, Egypt and England. Their daughter traveled with them as well and they always put her in the best English or French schools, she said proudly. Some of the schools were so expensive that half of her husbands salary would be swallowed up just to pay for her education. Then in 1977 Causescu (the former Romanian dictator) really cracked down on foreign travel and they were required to remain in Romania.

Daniela and I sat for half an hour and listened as she recounted their life together. At times she would use the present tense in reference to him and then shake her head and with tears change it to the past tense. "I am so alone now", she said. As we left I gave her a hug and told her to please ask us if she needed anything that we could possibly offer her. I think our friendship will be the most valuable gift, and I assured her of our prayers.

Shannon