Won’t You Be My Neighbor

The term-turned a corner– is sometimes used in the medical field.

I hoped to hear it, when Mr. Fix-it had fallen from the ladder

and broke his back. He was in the ICU. Either his blood pressure,

his blood sugar, his heart rate, or his color, all the things that scared me,

were always happening. The very tall, dark doctor man, who said to me the first day

that he would make him well again, came up to me in the mint green hospital hallway.

“He has turned the corner -he is on the up and up. We will have him out of here in no time.”

And he did. Three days later he was home with me. The kids along with the

neighbor girl push- broomed the sidewalk, so he could practice walking.

We attached tennis balls to his walker to help it roll.

Throughout the month of August he soak sweated through his t-shirts under

the thick “turtle shell” pushing that walker up and down the sidewalk.

We had turned the corner into a new season of our life. Neighbors who had never

talked to us came out and chatted to us. Telling us how much they loved our girls

playing volleyball and badminton on our front lawn. Commented about croquet

and tether ball games that they had watched from afar. They admired our gardens,

and wondered if any of our children had moved away or married yet. They wanted us

to know, that they had been watching us all along. We had turned the corner, into the

neighborhood.