OT

Fran is the widow of Joe.... our neighbors up the hill.

Fran knows I like to sew. Fran is lonely. Fran doesn't see me enough. Fran is clever enough to volunteer for sewing projects, then call me, "I need your brains, Georgie. Come over here when you can." And I go over and she gives me the sewing project, so I will sit with her and talk a little. Yesterday it was curtains for Michael's "project for cancer." I don't know what Michael (her grandson) is planning to do with several panels of curtains sewn end to end, but I have to do them today, or they won't be done on time. Michael is a good boy, who would be offended if I told him that. He mows her lawn and tries to get her recipes out of her. The week before, it was new cushions for the bench on her porch, which I don't see her using nearly enough. This weekend, I grilled hot dogs and brought her a couple, and I sat and watched her eat, or she probably would not have eaten that night.

Last night though, she managed a burst, "I thank God for having you move next door to us. He knew what he was doing. God will pay you back for this some day." I just smiled and held her hand for a moment. I hope I get nice neighbors when I am old. I'll need them too.

I'm not looking forward to finding Fran gone. But I'm pretty sure it'll be me. Her daughter visits every day, or near it. But she calls me to use the house key and check on her when she isn't answering the phone, and I knew this would be the case when she gave me the key.

If you need me later today, you'll find me at the sewing machine, sewing for cancer, for Michael, and for Fran.  ¶ 12:40 AM