Tradition

I think that everyone should have a 96 year old neighbor living across the street from them.  It really gives you perspective on things.  When they first moved in, I took cookies over to our neighbor and his much younger bride.  (Bride.  They were newlyweds!)  He thought this was a wonderful gesture and proceeded to remind me each time someone new moved in that I should do the same for them.  So I would – sometimes happily, sometimes grudgingly, but he was right, it was a nice thing to do.  He also hated to see women mowing the lawn.  Any time he saw me out there cutting the grass, Bill or I would hear about it later.  He would provide us with a comment, a harrumphing tone, or a haughty eyebrow indicating his disapproval.  And again, in a way, he was right.  Not in that women shouldn’t cut grass, but women who hate to cut grass and don’t have to really should not.  Bill likes to cut the grass and I was not really helping him at all by periodically butchering the lawn.

Our neighbor took an active interest in our kids, in the families around him and in doing so made all of us get involved with each other as well.  It is easy to just pull into your garage at night and forget that there are families living along side you raising their kids as you raise yours.  He and his wife have an uncanny way of getting us to be invested in those around us.  For a long time, they were front and center at all the neighborhood activities, showing the rest of us that it is wise to make the time to invest in others.  They showed us that it is important to carve out a sense of community and to truly get to know the people along your fence line.

Our neighbor is a quiet member of that Greatest Generation.  He served in World War II, but he deemed his service not as important as others.  He would not talk much about the war or his part in it.  He would dismiss it like it was no big deal but he was out there at sunrise every holiday that required a flag, unfurling his American flag, hoisting it up and smartly saluting it before going back inside.  The first time I saw him do this, I was instantly choked up.  There was something so beautiful in this old man who stood a little more stooped over each year, but became ramrod straight when it came to saluting his flag.  

Sadly, we have watched our neighbor’s health decline over the last few years.  All of us holding our breath as he walked to the mailbox, not sure if he would get there or not, but there was no way to offer this proud man a hand.  Or as his hearing declined, conversations became more of loud HELLLOOOOOS and thumbs ups rather than discussions on things.  It was hard for this proud man to decline, hard on his wife to shoulder it and sad for the rest of us to see a cornerstone of our community crumbling.  When he was taken to the hospital last month and things looked very dire indeed, we sat down and told the kids.  They both burst into tears and our 11 year old said “But he has always been there.”  He has a sense of permanence in both their memories and his presence has been a source of continuity and comfort for all of us.  However, I think that what this man has instilled in all of us the most is a sense of tradition.  

Ditcionary.com defines tradition as the handing down of statements, beliefs, legends, customs, information, etc., from generation to generation, especially by word of mouth or by practice.  Our neighbor has helped us to realize that tradition can be so much more than that.  It can be starting something and following through with it every time whether you feel like it or not – like in the case of cookies for new neighbors.  Or that tradition can ensue when you take the time to get to know the people around you and start sharing your life and your children's lives with each other.  Or that simply, tradition can be that you continue to do what someone has done before you.  In our case, with our neighbor winding down his days in hospice, we chose to honor him and his sense of tradition by continuing to raise his flag for him.  It was a beautiful and bittersweet moment on the 4^th of July as my Canadian husband and 9 year old son unfurled our neighbor’s American flag, hung it with care and then stepped back to salute it, just as our neighbor would have done.  

It didn’t take much time or effort but it helped cement for us that with just a little forethought and some consideration, tradition can be a constant in our lives as well.  Thank you, Bentley.