No Cross in The Window

Judy moved out yesterday.

She was our next door neighbor. Her husband Yvon died in April. Their house has not sold yet.

His death hit hard. Our homes are close together; you know when people are coming and going, you pick up on their rhythms. Especially at night - when lights go on, when they go off. Judy has been working part time at Market Basket for a while now, fighting to survive. Since April, she came home to an empty house.

Her loneliness was obvious, and hard for us to deal with. She was alone and it was impossible to miss.

Got Carol and I thinking about and talking about what that will be like. In the future, I will be living alone or Carol will be living alone. Inevitably. Being so aware of Judy's heartache made our thoughts and discussions more painful. Too real.

Judy and Yvon had a wooden cross hanging in a window directly across from the picture window next to my recliner. Challenging me. Indicting me.

As I sat in the chair preparing for work yesterday, the movers were marching through her house. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, glanced over and noticed the cross missing. Not sure if that is bad for me or good for me.

When I got home from work, Judy and Yvon's house was in complete darkness.

We live in an over 55 community. Been here three years this month. Many people have died in that time. I'm guessing around ten or so. Shit, just between Christmas 2025 and spring 2026, three or four people died.

Death stalks me and Carol. He dances just outside our field of vision, laughing because we don't know when he will strike. But he knows.

Our neighbor on the other side of us just put her house up for sale. Soon we will be surrounded by two empty houses. In her case, she screwed up her life. Driving without a license, bagged three times in short succession, car impounded, she spent a few months in jail. Suddenly she's moving to Kansas, to reunite with her "boyfriend."

But people are bailing in general. The guy that owns the place is a Royal Prick. He is raising lot rentals through the roof. Older residents have been driven to food banks and fuel assistance programs, just so they can pay the fucking rent. People are forced to move, even though they are losing huge money when they sell.

We are in such a weird place. The community is dwindling. Many people have sold or just walked away in the last three years. Many people have died. There is a darkness here, leading to something. We are just not sure what that will be.

It is sad, because we were so happy when we moved here. New location, new people, a safe and quiet community. But reality doesn't give a shit about happiness. Reality forces you to worry about sickness and death, reality forces you to find a way to survive financially, no matter what it takes, or what must be sacrificed.

Sitting in the recliner last night doped up on TV, occasionally glancing over at the dark house next door. Pitch black. No more life there. There were two lives there just a short time ago, two people sharing a life that they made. Lives compromised by greed, lives shattered by death.

Reading this morning, took a break to catch my breath, looked at the empty house next door and the empty window across from me. 

I wasn't impressed by the cross when it was there, but its absense is unsettling.