Mr. C.H.

Our 91 year old neighbor to the left of our property was the first in the neighborhood to greet us when we moved into Wexford Park in 2015. He is a slow, but determined old man who worked hard on his yard himself, while we hired a lawn guy to do all that stuff. He also worked tirelessly on in-house duties and keeping himself fed, because his wife had died just six months before we moved into WP, so he was adjusting to keeping up with his regular outside duties and taking over where his wife left on the inside duties.

He is full of spunk and stories, and welcomed us to chat with him wherever we saw him, whether it was checking the mail, working on some project in the yard or greenhouse, or taking a break and inviting us in for a sit down. He introduced me to our neighbors across the circle, which made my neighborly acquaintanceship complete.

The first year in WP we chatted with him regularly, but briefly, with my husband giving much more effort to get to know him than I. He even came over and laid on my massage table, so I could attempt to help relieve his neck pain. It was his first professional massage ever! The benefits of massage were dubious to him, so he was uneasy of the idea of letting me touch him, but with the encouragement of his daughter, he laid on my table and was thankful for having done so after the fact. Towards the end of the first year, I suggested we should meet some mornings out front to just sit and chat and have coffee. He eagerly accepted and said he looked forward to that. But it never happened.

A whole year went by, and I barely had a conversation with him. My husband talked to him often and even encouraged me on a few occasions to come out and say hi or join in on their conversations outside. I really don't have an excuse. My response or attitude was that I was always busy, and I was. I was so busy that I didn't make the time to give my neighbor the time of day. I felt guilty about it all the time, whether I saw him in passing or not, it was there in the back of my mind. I really did want to have coffee with him, but I never stopped whatever I was doing and let a year pass without being neighborly. The millennial attitude had permeated my normally welcoming and considering others first mindset. But we continued passing each other in our comings and goings, and he'd smile and wave.

After the storm had hit, the electricity was out, and we were on day two of sitting in the truck to charge our cell phone batteries. I checked up on C.H., and, yes, I stayed to talk with him. He was good. He had a generator, and his best friend, who also lived in WP came to check on him regularly, but especially during Hurricane Harvey and it's wake. At one point I told him I wished I had some coffee, but other than that we are alive and well. I never told him about the severe panic attack I was experiencing and how much of a challenge it was to get up and go see him during that mess, or how I wasn't talking to anyone in the house or outside of WP because my heart was beating so fast, it felt like it was going to jump out of me, and that feeling and the palpitations had been none stop for almost 48 hours.

Shortly after I left from our last visit, he called to tell me he was using his generator to make coffee and for me to come back so we could sit some more and enjoy the coffee. I said I would. He called while I was in my truck charging the phone and updating a dear cousin on our present situation. While nerve-racking, we were fine. That's what I told everyone. That's what I believed. But before I knew it, my husband was knocking on the truck door with a cup of coffee for me. C.H. had come, passed the truck, knocked on the front door, and offered to pour his pot of coffee in as many cups as it would fit. Travis gladly accepted that, since he too was dying for a cup of coffee. But I was immersed in conversation with my cousin and oblivious to C.H. passing my truck twice!

When Travis brought me the coffee, my heart sank! I failed again. I went to C.H.'s house to thank him. He was happy to see me and happy to do me a favor, but his best friend was at the house now, and they were immersed in conversation. So I left. And I regret that I've never sat down to drink coffee with my neighbor.

After that, everything was a whirlwind. If you read my Hurricane Harvey story, this incident occurred sometime just prior to our evacuation. So that is that. We went our way, and he his. His friend had to pry him away from the house, as the water came closer and closer to houses on our street. C.H. had lived in WP since 1965 and was so sure we wouldn't flood, since it has never flooded there as long as he lived there. But his buddy was able to get him away, and that happened quickly. He barely had time to get essential items, because his friend was adamant about C.H. leaving WP with him and now! Shortly after our return to WP, after being stranded in Alexandria for a week, we learned that Norm, C.H.'s buddy, was in the hospital. And just a few days later he passed away. C.H. is living with one of his daughters two hours away from his home in WP, the home where he raised his children, the home that never flooded until he was 90.

His memory is failing and adjusting to the drastic changes are challenging to him. I've seen him a few times during our families' various attempts at picking up the pieces. One day he squeezed my hand, and I could see the pain in his eyes.

Shortly after progress was better for my family- we had replaced all four vehicles lost at my house, and everyone had a place to stay that wasn't a hotel or shelter, I heard this song by one of my favorite bands. I couldn't understand all the words, but when the chorus hit, the change in melody and the words hit me with intense emotion, I began to cry. And I cry every single time I hear this song. And every single time I hear this song, I think of C.H. And I always wonder if he thinks of me like I think of him. I'll listen to it and find it ironic that while we were actually neighbors, how hospitable and friendly he was (and still is whenever I see him), but now that we are not, I think of him often and wish we could have a sit down and our cup of coffee. So there may be just a tad bit of guilt in my emotions, but it's more than that. I wish he could know how much I think of him, that I wish the best for him, and hope he heals from this before he leaves this world, so that he may experience some joy before leaving. I think of him more than all of my friends and acquaintances. That's how much. He was an example to me of what it means to be a neighbor. I've since changed my ways, and you can read the 'how' laced throughout my Hurricane Harvey story. He affected me, and the 'loss' of my neighbor unfortunately is what forced me into action to change.

So the song is ironically titled, "Hurricane," and it seems to be a song about a relationship. While C.H. and I certainly didn't have a romantic relationship, I feel the song still fits.

Verse 1 -can be applied to conversations we've had about life's challenges and ending on a note of laughter.

Chorus- Self explanatory

Verse 2- The effect of our relationship on my healing process after Harvey

Chorus x2

And just for the record, it was very difficult for me to write this. I'm sad my neighbor is gone. Harvey forced a change, and I'm going to heal. I'm going to give others the time they deserve, and I'm going to love my neighbor as myself. Because I deserve to be honored with time and a cup of coffee.

Shout out to my neighbor, Clarence Brawley!

Hurricane by Thrice

Those flowers I found you Were the truest red that I'd ever seen Till you cut yourself on their thorns You winced and I kissed you, And I kissed your palms and we both laughed So unaware of the gathering storm

It's gonna rain, it's gonna rain, till the levee breaks A tidal wave of fear and pain carries us away Another fight into the night until nothing else remains How do we find harbor from the hurricane?

Now sheltered in shadows, The quiet song of your breath stirs the dark Your skin like a rose 'neath my hand And I can't keep from wondering Why nothing good could ever stay Why faith feels like a fistful of sand

It's gonna rain, it's gonna rain, till the levee breaks A tidal wave of fear and pain carries us away Another fight into the night until nothing else remains How do we find harbor from the hurricane? [x2]