It seems strange to post this immediately after a writing a birthday post but it just didn't feel right lumping them into the same entry.
The neighbour's grown son died suddenly and unexpectedly a week or so ago. Maybe even a couple of weeks ago. It feels disrespectful not to know when...ah well.
Anyhow, the neighbour is back now and I just kept thinking to myself that I should know what to say. Being widowed definitely gives you an interesting perspective on all the well-meaning but idiotic things people say when someone dies. I should know what to say...what comforting words would help...
But I don't.
All I kept repeating to myself was "don't treat them like they don't exist" and "bake them some cookies".
So I did what I do. I baked.
Butter cookies, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, and my new favourite cookie to make...empire cookies. I put them on my best napkins. I don't even remember who gave these to me but I've been hoarding them over the years sealed in plastic so they stay lovely.
It's just a little thing to them but I know I did my best.
It's hard to find any pleasure in times like these but even if they find the tiniest bit of enjoyment in eating a cookie and knowing someone thought of them, then that is a good thing.
I brought them over today before my therapy group and our neighbour gave me a big hug and thanked me.
His son leaves behind a wife and children.
I never met him but I'm sorry for his loss.