A few weeks ago, my neighbor called me. He hadn't slept very well for several nights. When He lies down, He has trouble breathing. Could I give him a ride to the veteran's hospital? Of course. We drive to the hospital. Bob sees the triage desk and his records come up. I park the car while Bob sees a nurse. While waiting in the waiting room, I marvel at the computer system. No matter where Bob is, there is a terminal that can pull up his records. He could be in the emergency room, at the doctor's office, in physical therapy...where ever He went in the VA complex, his records were at hand.

The nurse examined him and told him to come back the next day when the doctor was in. I drove my neighbor home. The next day, Bob drove himself to the VA. I don't know what happened, as I wasn't there.

A few days pass. Then, my phone rings. The voice is so distorted, I can hardly make out who it is. Bob is really ill. He needs to go back to the VA. I quickly get ready and park my truck in front of his house, expecting that he will come out shortly. He's sitting on the porch, with not enough strength to get up and walk to the truck. Neighbor says He's letting his cat in before he goes to the VA. Cat goes in the house. Bob follows. I wait. No Bob. I turn off the truck and walk inside his house. He is hanging over the sink, to catch his breath. I ask if He needs assistance to get into the truck. He says, "no". Bull. Next door, the neighbors are sitting down to breakfast. Father and son follow me to Bob's house. They help him out of the kitchen to the porch. Bob has to sit down to catch his breath. After a rest, He is assisted to the truck.

At the emergency entrance, Bob needs a wheelchair . Wheelchair provided. I wheel him to the triage desk. He is exhausted. Medical people move him to the emergency room. I wait. After a time, the doctor allows me in to see my neighbor. He is hooked up to a machine that puts vapor in his lungs. He wears a cone over his nose and mouth. Laborious breathing. Bob has sensors on his chest, monitoring his heart. He looks like a Buddha...fat belly...and like a bug with antennae coming from his chest. Couldn't help it. I laughed at him....bug image made me do it. It turns out that was the correct response, better than doom and gloom concern.

Bob gives me the phone number of his x-wife, the keys to the house. I will inform the family where Bob is, through his wife, Dee. The keys go to my tenant, Tina, who will look after Bob's cat, Magic.

My neighbor is seriously ill, but I think He will come home...this time. He is getting slowly better. He has pneumonia. A tube runs into his lungs. Antibiotics and vapor. Once his heart stopped. They had to use the paddles to bring him back to life. The doctor asked Bob, if it happens again, do you want us to resuscitate you? Bob answers, "no". He is 86 years old, quite a character.

This man has inserted himself into my life. We garden together, fight squirrels together, exchange Christmas gifts. I visited his family in St. Croix and had a wonderful vacation. Same St. Croix family used my house when they were in Milford. Bob has started his snow blower and cleared off his driveway and sidewalk. Then He continues down the street and does every body's sidewalk. He said that since the snow blower is started, He might just as well do the whole street. He is nice to everyone. I meet Bob at Maxine's sometimes, for breakfast. We're "regulars". Bob was a good friend of my husband, Bob Willings. My neighbor tells me stories of what life was like at my Park Circle house before I met my husband. I feel the history of the house. I feel I know my father-in-law and mother-in-law, even though I never met them. I heard their stories.

It seems I am not special. Neighbor does things for everyone in the neighborhood. At first I thought He was a little too nosy about my business. Then I saw that He was just interacting in a friendly way with everyone.

When Bob went to intensive care, the neighborhood responded. Tina went 3 times a day to take care of his cat. I helped Tina clean Bob's kitchen. It was a mess when He left. Family from out of state came. We turned down the heat and cancelled the newspaper, to save Bob some money. The son from next door, came with a blower, and clean the leaves from Bob's lawn and driveway. Cards came in. If there was anything that someone could do, they did it. Bob is a member of the greatest generation...world war two. Get well, good neighbor.