When you miss opportunities

T
oday, as I sit and write this column, I am heartbroken. My heart is breaking for a man in my neighborhood. I need to keep this antiseptic, no names but my own household, no specific dates. This is to respect this man, whom I consider a friend and a pretty unique friend at that.
When Connie and I moved to Newcastle in October of 2018, one of the first people who came to pay us a visit and welcome us in was this neighbor gentleman and his lovely wife. I don’t even think I had the semitrailer emptied yet. That Christmas, they were the only people who came by our house with a basket, a welcome gift. It had brownies and fudge and cookies and all the usual Christmas goodies. It was tied up with a pretty bow and was perfect. 
At first, I used to go over to their house to just visit. On a couple of occasions, my wife came with me when her work schedule permitted. Then I got busy in the spring of 2019, and my time just slipped away. At least that’s the excuse I gave myself. I was too busy.
But last year that lovely lady became sick. Very sick. She was let out of the hospital in the fall, and we visited them again. But you could tell she was tired and still suffering. I should have gone over more often, found out if there was anything I could do for them. But I had become too busy. Even now, the habit I’ve formed takes over. I have to write. That’s my job. And when something hits me emotionally, writing is my go-to behavior to deal with it. But I could have laid aside a project or two for an hour now and then, gone to their house and found out if there was something I could do for them.
What would it have cost me? I’d have to go to bed an hour later? Might I have opened a can or frozen box of prepared food instead of cooking from scratch? But I was too busy. Besides, I love to cook, so was I also supposed to put that off?
That answer for me is easy now. Yes, I should have. I just learned that she died. This was a bit of a gut punch to me, but when I looked into his face as he told me, I felt like my soul crumbled. The pain and loneliness on his face were unmistakable. I felt awful. 
What made it worse is that she died at the beginning of November. Two months ago, this beautiful person lost his wife, but I was too busy to notice. I was too busy to realize that they weren’t sitting outside on their front porch together anymore. Too busy to see that he wasn’t helping her into their car anymore. Even as I was putting all my lawn decoration up for Christmas, or taking them down after Christmas, I was too busy to look past the end of my nose. I missed it completely.
Both of them came by with that Christmas basket back in 2018. Not to take anything away from the man, but I knew who it was that made all those treats. It was she. The first time we visited it was she who helped propel the conversation forward, included Connie more than anyone else. Not that he is uninterested. We used to talk quite a lot, one on one. But we guys have a tendency to let the conversation be carried by our wives sometimes.
She had passed on to her eternal home, but he was still left here alone. And for two months I missed it. I missed the opportunity to offer him anything – comfort, sympathy, an ear to get the cuss words out, whatever. I was too busy.
I know one thing. This is not a woe-is-me column. It is more of a resolution and one I hope I don’t break. What if I have to go to bed a bit late one day because it was more important that I visit somebody in need? What if I have to eat something from a box because it’s more important that I spend time with someone else, instead of in the kitchen cutting up onions and carrots? Does that really cost me anything? The cost of these missed opportunities to get to know her a little better during the last days she was with us seems harsh now. The value of the missed opportunities to invite him over for a cup of tea or coffee, just to be around a friend, seem more important. Those missed opportunities are higher costs than simple, easy-to-obtain comforts that I won’t even miss the next day.
And how about all of us. Are there people in our own neighborhood who are in need? Of course there are. Do we even know who these people are, or what those needs are? Have we reached out to our own neighbors and invited them in, listened to them, expressed anything resembling brotherly love to them? If not, why not? If we don’t do it now, because we are too busy, when? There are amazing people on our own street, shopping at the same stores where we shop. Do we know them? Are we friendly with them? Or are we so busy with our personal things that we won’t make an effort? Can we set aside a little bit of time, reach out and not miss some wonderful and precious opportunities? Once they are gone, they don’t come around again. And we’ve missed it.