H. Davis, my neighbor next door

Several years ago, during the big housing boom, Tom suggested we get a bigger house. I emphatically disagreed. I didn't want to leave our neighbors. All of my life, in every home I've lived, we've had wonderful neighbors--the kind who become a part of your family. There was no way I was leaving those neighbors.

Today, I received the news that the best neighbor ever had died. Howard was 99 years old. My heart is broken.

The first day that Tom moved into this house (a year before we married), Howard performed first-aid on my MIL. She cut her finger on something. We had just left to pick up another load at Tom's apartment, so Mary Anne went next door for help in staunching the bleeding. She informed us the neighbors were top-notch. She was right!

There was no one like Howard. He was the epitome of goodness. He never had anything unkind to say about anything or anyone. He and his wife Betty embraced us "young people," and they were a part of our lives from day one--literally, where my daughters were concerned, having been there since before they both were born.

Yesterday, before I knew Howard was gone, I texted him. After some health issues, Howard moved to Texas to be close to his daughters, but we kept in touch. I was sitting on our porch with Elliot, thinking about how Howard would've come over to sit with me if he'd still been next door. He was 99 so not getting a response from him was always a worry, but I think I knew when I texted. I hadn't heard from him on Easter. He died on April 14th. 

• Howard was one of the first people I told when I got pregnant. I was coming home from walking the hood, and he was outside. He greeted me with a joke about exercising, and I just had to spill the beans. He and Betty were so excited. Betty thought I was having a boy.
• Howard and Betty were the first of our neighbors to meet Madison when we brought her home from the hospital. They also were who we called the night I went into labor with Darcy. They came over until my MIL could get to our house. Betty knit both children a layette that is in their keepsake boxes today.
• They would leave the sliding door open to their screened porch so they could listen to Madison and her friends play outside. Howard told us Betty loved to hear the voices of children in the neighborhood.
• Howard was great at neighbor tact. When our bushes got too high, he'd offer to trim them. When our back fence rotted, he helped Tom replace it. In doing that, the neighbor behind us came out and yelled at Tom because she wasn't sure that the fence didn't belong to her. Howard calmly reversed psychology by exclaiming how he just knew she would be happy this rotting piece of wood was finally coming down. Years later, when we put in yet another fence along the back and side, we did not replace it between our house and Howard's. In typical Howard fashion, he got us not to do so by talking about his enjoyment in seeing the neighbors, the kids, the trees, etc. This year we finally finished our fence line along that side, and every time I see it, I think of Howard.

• Howard's house was the first house my kids would go to every Halloween. Even if we went to other neighborhoods or parties, they both insisted they had to show Howard their costumes first.
• Every Christmas, he hung out his decorations early so he could enjoy them before he headed off to spend the holidays with his girls. Every year since he left, I missed his lights on the fence in front of his house.
• He had fake flowers in the planter by his front door. I knew then I liked Howard and Betty because I had done the same when I moved into my first apartment. We made a lot of jokes about tending to them and watering them.
• Howard made us a set of wind chimes for our front porch.
• Howard and I once drank too much ouzo at our Greek neighbor's funeral. The dead man's wife kept pouring it into our glasses. She laughed about that for months.
• He had more social engagements and went to more parties than we did. 

• While Betty would often balk about "bothering us" if we invited her to dinner, Howard always accepted happily. After Betty died, he attended every birthday and celebration we threw. He knew all of our family and each one of our friends. Everyone always asks about him still today.
• He took Betty's death hard. I never forgot him telling me how they had held hands that morning in bed because "we old folks still did that." I sat with him in the hospital after she'd had her stroke. I promised her we would take care of him.
• He told me the secret to a long life was having a cocktail every night. Or, as he liked to call them, a "corktail." He would have us over for munchies and "corktails," and he always had stuff for the girls. They associate ginger ale with Howard. I associate rum and coke with Howard. He always put more rum than coke and assured me it was fine.
• After Betty's died, he would call me to ask me how to do things. Every time I try to fold a fitted bedsheet, I think of Howard. That was one of his questions, and I told him if he learned the answer, to pass it on. We worked hard at trying to come up with the best solution, and every time we failed. He finally told me he'd decided we could wad it into a ball and shove it into the closet. 

• Howard was a photographer. He loved when I posted nature photos to my blog, and he'd give me pointers. 
• He helped me paint Madison's bedroom when she was five. I don't think he had faith I could do it by myself. It was a pale lilac, and he kept asking me if I was sure I wanted to paint a room purple. I didn't know then that he was color blind.
• When we were picking out paint for the outside of our house, I bought different samples and painted a stripe on one wall. After I had a collection of them, Howard asked me if I wanted him to paint over them. I asked him why it bothered him, and he said it was too many colors for one wall. I reminded him he was color blind. 
• When he called me on the phone, he always said, "Hello, Cara, this is ole H. Davis from next door."
• Every month he'd come into our yard, sit on an overturned bucket, and trim the leaves from his bush that was creeping through the chainlink fence onto our side. We kept telling him he didn't have to do it, but he insisted. I'd bring him water or lemonade.

• Howard's birthday was in October, two days before my neighbor across the street's big day. For his 80th, I threw a dual party for them. Howard cried when we sang Happy Birthday. I told him if he lived to a 100, we were coming to Texas.
• After Betty died, he came to dinner once or twice a week. He always brought a bottle of chilled white wine. 
• A couple of times, we went to his house and attempted to teach him to cook some of his favorite foods. He eventually gave up on that moved in a female friend. He was worried about how we would take it, which cracked us up.
• In Texas, he had another female friend. They went on a cruise together, and he told me they had separate cabins because she was a "good gal." 
• Howard was one of the few people still in my life who knew my father. He attended my FIL's funeral and my mother's memorial service.

• The first dog Howard got scratched Betty, so he returned her because he told the breeder he had "a little girl next door." His second dog was Penny, and when she died, he got Nickel, aka Nikki.
• When Nikki escaped, Howard knew to come to my house. He always came to the front door and peeked in like a kid asking to play with the neighbor. Elliot really missed him when they moved.
• He was not a Steelers fan but he'd pretend he was for me. He always yelled, "Go Steelers" when he'd see me during football season, and later after his move, he'd text it to me every Sunday.
• One year for Darcy's birthday party, we had a detective theme. Darcy's pinata had been stolen, and they had to find the culprit. It was a hunt where they had clues that led them to the next object with another clue. Each object had a letter, and they had to unscramble all of them to find the answer. It spelled Howard. He was so excited to be a part of it that he went out and bought himself a disguise!

• Howard loved his daughters. He talked to them all the time and would give us updates on their lives. He always gave all the credit for how they turned out to Betty. 
• Howard was a sailor. He sold his boat not long after we moved into the neighborhood. I always forgot that he was as much of a water person as I was.
• I've lost count of the things Howard helped us build, repair, or maintain. 
• Howard was very tech-savvy. He mastered computers, the iPhone, and the iPad. When he needed help, he called Tom. He piggy-backed off our wifi for years, and he and Tom would laugh when I'd get worried we'd all get in trouble.
• We always hid our Santa gifts in Howard's house.
• The last time we Facetimed him, we were joyful for the entire day. That's how he made people feel. His happiness was contagious. We were also just thrilled that he acted and sounded just like Howard.

• Howard told great stories, and he was an excellent listener.
• He offered to teach me how to play bridge after I told him I wasn't getting anywhere learning from a book Tom got me. I told him that despite being a card shark, that game was just beyond my capabilities. He never believed that.
• When I decided I should learn to sew, Howard lent me Betty's sewing machine while I mastered dresses for the girls.
• Once, he was hospitalized at the same time as his live-in friend. They were on different floors. I hopped back and forth between them as their communicator.
• Howard was gentle, kind, and sweet. Everyone loved him. You couldn't help it. Many times when I'm annoyed, I think, how would Howard handle this? When I told him that, he scoffed and laughed. "Well, I don't know about that, Cara. I'm just an old man with none of the answers."
• He loved the theater, had season tickets to our local group, and he always wanted to attend the shows my MIL worked on. 
• He also attended productions and sporting events that the girls participated in. He was a great cheerleader to many.
• We still call the house next door Howard's house. 

The day he moved was one of the worst days in our lives. I knew when I hugged him that I wouldn't see him again. Our family mourned for weeks. Just knowing he is gone and unreachable will be hard. I'd come to rely on those short text exchanges--a little everything is all right in the world because Howard is still in it.

After Tom processed the news of Howard's death, he told me he'd liked knowing that Howard was out there in Texas, and he'd wished he could just keep thinking that. 

He was a wonderful man. His heart was big enough to fit everyone he met in there. A rare gem in a world that is topsy-turvy. He was 95% positive and 5% thoughtful when he was down, always working to turn his frown upside down. I'm a better person for having known him. He will be missed more than he ever expected.