Neighbors

I live in a condo on the beach in Ft Lauderdale. People often come here to retire which is why sometimes this area is called 'God's waiting room'. When we first moved here around 15 years ago my wife and I were one of the younger couples in our building. Not so much anymore. 

Death is omnipresent hanging over us like a cloud in the distance, never too far away. My wife and I have attended over 20 funerals in the roughly 14 years we have lived here. Many of those for neighbors who became close friends, which often happens when you share a common structure with 103 other families. In many ways condos are micro communities of non-related extended families. Most of us see each other far more than we do blood relatives and our close friends.

It is not easy to interact with friends when the specter of death looms over the relationship. Many people fear the often uncomfortable conversations that arise seemingly out of thin air and try to avoid engaging beyond the occasional salutation while passing in the hall or parking lot. In an attempt to improve my self worth I decided several years ago to try to address this fear head on. As a result I am currently engaged with two neighbors who are close to leaving the constraints of this encasement and advancing to the next level; Rudy and Bob. 

Rudy is a 92 year old violin player who has worked for the Boston Pops, the Orlando Philharmonic and many other orchestras over his lifetime. He holds a Medal of Honor from the US Navy for his participation in the invasion of Normandy on D-Day and he plays his violin every Sunday to this day at his local church. 

Rudy is fiercely independent going so far as to get a restraining order against his family who want to bring him back home to Louisiana to care for him in his declining years. He is a  Lymphoma survivor and continues to drive his car though his license has been suspended for quite a while now. He is also planning on getting a hip replacement soon though from what I hear the doctors refused because of his advanced age. In his mind he has no expiration date.

Robert is a 48 year old former actor who had minor parts in films like 'the Thin Red Line'. He spent his formative years in Brooklyn NY and moved to California to pursue a movie career and threw himself into the LA party scene. He never really hit it big but he enjoyed the ride. 

Robert lies in bed medicating himself to relieve the pain. He does not really know exactly what his condition is but he was told 2 years ago he has 6 months to live so in his assessment he is playing with house money and has accepted his fate. In his mind he is beyond his expiration date. He will most probably pass before Rudy and he is in far worse condition, not able to leave his bed anymore so perhaps this accounts for the differences in their approach to death. One waits, one defies. 

In both cases I try to spend an hour or so each week visiting with them, or in Rudy's case lately, helping him keep from getting foreclosed on. We talk about current events but it seems at some point we shift to the past. We talk about where we came from, life's high and low points and ultimately, regrets. Fortunately, neither Robert nor Rudy have many. In both cases they did what they wanted to with their life. There is very little either would do differently had they the chance to do it over again. I hope I am so fortunate. 

What I am learning is that it seems as we reach our final days we begin pushing family away. Perhaps it is the pride of independence or the desire that those closest to us don't see us in this condition, but for whatever reason, it seems it is easier to be with and ask for help from strangers than family or friends. I know from our discussions that being a burden on our loved ones is a real concern for both men and I can certainly relate to that. 

Beyond the knowledge I've gained, like "Sean Penn is a pain to work with" or "Mantovani didn't pay shit" I have developed an understanding of how we approach our final days; mentally and often physically isolated.

There is a subtle distinction between self-fulfillment and self-enrichment with the latter carrying somewhat negative connotations, so I will use the former though I feel the latter. 

In my search for self-fulfillment I have discovered that the role of neighbor can be more than metaphorical, rather it is a real value one can provide by just being there and listening and by listening we learn. We learn things we never would have learned had we not engaged in a caring manner with those around us who we see often but take for granted more. Our neighbors.