The Passing of a Friend

I've been tossing over in bed for the past 45 minutes so I finally gave in to the force that was trying to get me out of bed at 4:45am on a Monday morning. That and the song "Shed a Little Light" by James Taylor (on his Copperline album...fantastic album, btw...check it out) had been playing over and over in my mind. Ok, Ok...I give....I'll get to the keyboard! (of course, anyone who has dogs knows that once you even give off the "vibe" that you are awake, they are right there as if to say "where we goin? Let's go!"

This past Friday morning, January 4, 2008 at around 10:30am, a very dear friend of ours passed away. He died one day before his 86th birthday. Abbie (full name Albert Farrell....most knew him as Abbie or Ab) was such a wonderful, kind-hearted man and (as my wife remarked) we highly doubt there was a "mean bone" in his body or even any type of negative thought or expression. The man always had a smile (even after his hip replacement surgery) and never did I hear him talk badly about someone or even about some thing. Just a remarkable person.

We moved into this house (our first purchased home, that is) in July of 2001 when our youngest son was only 6 months old. Abbie and Annie (his wife) were the first to greet and welcome us. I can remember his smile that day and his genuine welcome to our family as being new neighbors. Each day as we were moving in and for many, many days thereafter we would return a wave and greeting...most times as he was on his way to his woodshop or on his way back into the house calling it a day. Not long after we moved in, we started noticing Annie would tell us the same story and sometimes everyday as if we'd never heard it before and we commented that something just seemed wrong. It wasn't long until we heard that Annie had developed Alzheimer's Disease and Abby had to place her in a home where she could receive the care and attention needed. I don't recall the exact number of years they were married but I'm pretty sure is was in the 50+ range. How incredibly difficult it had to be to spend that many years with a person and for them to end up not knowing who you are. Yet, near everyday he could, he went to visit her and spend time with her. All the while, still returning to his woodshop each day....surely his sacred place. After her passing, it was a while before we saw him back in his shop. He said once that he just didn't feel like doing it much anymore. We were very glad to see one day that changed and again he returned to his place....he later told me that he didn't know how he would've got through losing her without his shop and his work.

Not long after we moved in, Abbie gave me a handful of cassettes after learning that I was a musician and performing in the local venues. I graciously accepted them and gave a listen. It was classic jazz with guitar. At one point I realized it was Ab playing guitar. And then he would tell me different stories of how he performed with local players back in the 50's & 60's. He was telling me stories of players and some of their experiences and I realized I was living those stories in my era. Every now and then I would be outside and would hear him picking away at his guitar and/or mandolin. So cool, I thought, that he finds solace in music still at this age and continues to be active instead of just sitting in front of the "plug-in drug" all the time.

One of the first times I visited inside his woodshop I was just utterly amazed. A modest sized garage full of woodcarving and cutting machines, handsaws and hundreds of hand tools and the smell of woodshavings that lay on the floor. Excitedly (and rightfully proud) he showed me around and I admired the rare hand-craftsmanship of kids rocking chairs, regular chairs, wooden train sets (which he so graciously gave a set to each of my sons), wooden jeeps, napkin holders and many repairs of precious furniture that folks would bring to him in need of repair. Words cannot truly justify the beauty and precision of which this man carved wood. Wheels for the trains and jeeps were not just round enough, they were PERFECT! They were not purchased from a factory stock either, these were genuinely carved by Ab.

At different times, I would go over with some small repair and so effortlessly Abby would fix it right up. When my oldest son joined Cub Scouts and we were building our first Pinewood Derby car, we asked Ab if he could cut out the design from the block and show my son how these machines and tools performed. I remember Zachary saying something to the sort of, "Wow. Ab sure is good with wood!" Yes, he was.

Each day he'd be in his shop carving, fixing, sanding. Standing or sitting at his workbench in front of a large window that looked out across his backyard and mine. Although we had 2 dogs, a fenced in backyard and live in a very safe area, it was still a comfort to know that a set of eyes were keeping watch over the kids as they would play in the yard. And he would regularly comment on how he enjoyed watching the kids (and dogs) play while he worked and was thankful that our dogs noticed when someone would pull into his driveway or drop by a new repair or pickup. Abbie's hearing had deteriorated over the years so our dogs would "notify" him of someone's arrival.

When I was growing up, I recall my parents lending a hand to neighbors and them returning the same when we were in need. Someone helping dad fix the water heater or mom giving haircuts. A wonderful lesson learned without actually knowing it. So when it snowed and I was out plowing, I didn't even think about it and plowed out Ab's drive along with mine (and whomever else needed). When we lived in the old farm house, our Mennonite neighbor would just show up and dig out our long lane. I would offer to compensate and one time even asked his wife if I could pay her for his kindness. She too denied simply saying, "We're just glad to have great neighbors." Hmm. For about the first year or so Ab would always try to pay me to which I of course denied and without even thinking about it said, "That's what neighbors do." No reason, just because. We weren't "trading time or favors." This is just what we do. Period.

As my 2 sons continued to grow, I cannot begin to explain the life lessons they have learned having Abbie as a neighbor. They saw the kind respect and help we offered each other as well as simply learning to communicate with someone 75 years their senior. How many kids today do you know that will even talk to anyone 10 years different of their age. There's so much one can learn from another.

Several years ago we noticed Abbie having more and more trouble walking. Every morning as the kids were waiting to get the bus we see Ab walk across the street using his cane more and more to assist him in fetching the morning paper. He finally decided to talk advantage of modern medicine and we learned that he would get his hip replaced. So we started retrieving his morning paper and placing it inside his front door each morning and he would place the previous days paper there for us to take. And we started taking care of his yardwork....again, it was just something you do. It wasn't something we thought about. I enjoy cutting grass. Somedays I would go cut the grass at our camp, come home cut Ab's grass and then cut ours. When we were without our mower for a time while it was repaired, Abby made sure we used his...even purchasing a new one when his broke (while I was using it too!). Our kids would help out doing what they could but more importantly they were learning to be neighbors and learning lessons that one cannot just teach or "tell" a child.....life lessons.

There are so many memories....as I'm sure many experience in these similar situations. This Christmas was the last we actually saw Ab. He stopped over bringing presents for the kids (Rubik's cubes which they loved!) and visited for a while. We, as most parents, were running around trying to get things ready for the day of travel and visiting with families but we were glad to have visited and felt bad for not being able to visit longer. But we're thankful that we spent the time we did.

New Year's Eve morning, around maybe 8am or so we received a call from our neighbor a couple doors down asking if we knew what happened to Abbie. What? We said. Somehow, I missed the ambulance as I had just set out the garbage for pick-up and apparently was in the basement when it arrived to pick him up. We made some calls and found he had called 911, his friend Virginia and his son Ben. He was going to get an earful from us for not calling us as we would've been over to wait with him but apparently by the time he made those couple calls, the ambulance was already there.

It turned out he had experienced a heart attack and was in quite a bit of pain. They sent him to Harrisburg and he had a couple stints put in. Funny story and typical Abbie....apparently on the way to the hospital, the EMT asked him "on a scale from 1-10, where does the pain rank?" Well, Abbie told Marcene later, "My first thought was to tell her 13....but I didn't want to scare her." LOL Just like Abbie to think of others even at a time of extreme pain. Such a lesson there.

I believe it was Thursday the 4th that we received a called from Ben (Abbie's son) letting us know that it looked like Abbie would be home on Saturday....and Saturday was his birthday (he'd be 86). We were a bit surprised that he would be home that soon but nonetheless began to think of celebrating his birthday. Unfortunately and to our shocking surprise, on Friday morning about noon time I received a call from Marcene stating Abbie had passed away that morning around 10:30am. I guess they moved him to a different area (typical procedure) after he showed improvement but his kidney's began to fail after being removed from the machine and soon after his heart just wasn't strong enough and he passed away.

My heart literally sunk. It was an odd feeling and that lump in my throat came quick. I sat there in disbelief. It never crossed our minds that we wouldn't see him again. We felt just as if we had lost a member of our family....and we did. We weren't "related" in the current definition of that but as I believe, we are all one and we had become close to Abbie over the past several years checking in on him and helping him in any way we could....because that's just what you do.

The viewing was on Sunday night and we decided this would be something our kids should experience. They had taken it fairly hard...both crying for a bit....as Abbie was a sort of grandpap to them too. So we thought it would be a good thing for them to be able to visit the family and say goodbye to Abbie.

Viewings are weird vibes for me. I stood in line and could fell the uneasy-ness of the room. Sadness and meant well happiness of stories told....people think they should be strong or want to express their feelings and are not sure how....ugh....such a mixed up vibe in the room. It overwhelmed me a bit and when it was finally our turn in line, we just all cried as we hugged Ben and Marcene. We felt almost as if we were his kids too....I mean no disrespect saying that but it was just what we felt and it was actually an honor to be referred to as "family." We never really thought of it that way...we just thought of being good neighbors and friends.

The funeral was nice. Reverend Longfield had been a friend of Abbie's for a long time spending time with him at his house telling stories, playing guitar and planning out a custom built mandolin. I can't imagine how a reverend can do that for a friend but then I imagine it too is sort of an honor for a friend to carry out the service. I hadn't felt that lump in my throat or cried over a loss since losing Jamie back in 1991. Whew....

It's been almost a week now since Abbie's funeral....Ben and Marcene have been cleaning out the house, going through things and giving away items to those who want. We didn't realize how much Abbie had given us over the years of the wooden items he made....children's rocking chairs, children's little table chairs, the little recipe holder duck "thing", a circular lazy susan type thing that holds the salt and pepper, etc, the napkin holder that looks like a ships mast, each of the boys received trains (amazing craftsmanship on those things), the step stool that I sit on to put on my shoes in the basement and I'm sure there's other's that I'm forgetting. So giving he was.

It's difficult to explain how we just didn't realize how much of a friend we had living next door. We simply helped "because." But we were helping a friend and he was helping us. Neither of us really realizing it at the time (well, meaning we didn't consciously "think" that we were helping, we were just doing). The lessons he taught our boys are ones that you cannot describe but they are many. The lessons in kindness that he taught us too are life lessons. But isn't it interesting that we don't realize these things as we are experiencing them. So caught up in our own day to day lives...rarely slowing down to take a look around and be grateful.

When I moved here, I would never have guessed that I would've made such friends with a man twice my age. Now that I have experienced it, I've realized that the age had no factor in it....age is something we have created a label for. The body does lose it's energy but this notion of age groups being separate is ridiculous. I must also admit that all too often I asked why I was living here....why had my path put me here. So often frustrated with the area and the people here. Never did I feel that with Abbie. And now I know "why" my path brought me here....simply to learn these lessons.

Thanks, Abbie. Your friendship is cherished. May you be at peace. As Gandolf said, "This is not the end. Death is just another path. A path we all must take."

namaste, my friend.