Sunday

Every once in a while you meet someone who just fits. You can carry on a conversation with them right from the start and not feel uncomfortable, and you can’t help but smile a little every time you see them, even if you’re just waving at them from across the street as they go from their car into their house.

It’s a slice of good fortune to have people like that come into your life, even if it’s just for a short time.

Ann was one of those people; we met at a neighbor’s house a little over three years ago. She introduced herself and plopped down into the chair next to me, and began to talk. And as a total surprise to me—because I tend to be more than a little shy with people for a long time after I meet them—I was able to jump into the conversation and go with the flow. She made me feel worth talking to, that what I said mattered; she capture and offered attention, something of a rarity in people these days, I think.

Her health was always a bit on the frail side, but she was just spunky enough to rise above it. She joined in on the neighborhood barbeques; she was out there watching the kids play; she took classes at the University. She did more that I was doing at the time, for sure.

Ann passed away this past week. The things she leaves behind are good and wonderful, and for a legacy that’s not half bad. Her family is filled with kind and generous people, and her daughter is a testament to the kind of person Ann was. You just can’t raise someone that well if you don’t pour a whole lot of yourself into it.

Her family is going to miss her like crazy. I think the Evil People of the street and I will, too. Just knowing she’s not there any more puts a hole on the fabric of our lives.

There will be no pimping today.

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