George

Our neighbor, George, died yesterday morning. He has had multiple health problems-- lung, kidney, not sure what else. The boys really like him, and they loved getting to know his family as they came to take care of him when he was sick.

Yesterday, as the boys left for school, the ambulance arrived. We didn't think too much-- it had happened before, no one seemed in a rush. When I came back and saw TD, George's brother, he said he didn't make it, heart attack.

George used to sit on his porch and watch us in the garden. He was happy we were planting cabbage, carrots, and turnips. He said, "I'm Peter Rabbit..." And turnips are just about ready.

George is someone we got to know by sitting on the front porch. How sad it would feel if we had stayed in or stayed in the back, and George had just died next door, anonymously. Maybe I'm too sensitive about it. I'm sick of death. Had a moment a few weeks ago where I just did not want to be ion the hospital visiting anyone. And I don't want people to die and there just be nothing-- no knowledge of their story, their struggle, their joy.

TD told me that the night before he died, George told him he was getting it right with Jesus. TD asked him what he meant. "I've got to get it right before I go." TD told him he had plenty of time. Sometimes people know when it's their time to go.