WobLog

Poet John Dunne said, "No man is an island" and I think his statement is true. Today, however, I felt very sad because my neighbor has been isolated without my knowing it.

I make a great effort to know all our neighbors, which is difficult in these days when moms rarely stay home and all are, by definition, "too busy." I think it's important to have a sense of community where we live, but despite my efforts, I have to admit our community is pretty shallow.

Today I went over to my neighbor's house to return a whiffle ball that his grandchildren had batted into our yard. After we returned the ball, he asked if I knew that his wife had died of cancer in March.

It was a little like being hit in the stomach. I am certain this neighbor's family are helping him, and I am sure he had friends to ease the burden, but I was shocked that a neighbor who lives right next door to me could lose his wife, and I wouldn't know about it. We had visited them in January, and she died in March. Now it is May.

Had I known, I would have made him dinner, I would have invited him to dinner. This incident only confirms for me that these days the places where our homes reside are not really communities. They are locations. If ones tries or is lucky, one can have real community at church, like we do, or with family, as we also do, but what about those poor souls who are unchurched, or who lack a good relationship with family? Without real communities to live in, how do they ever survive without feeling all alone?

"any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and
therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for
thee."