Member-only story
We Could Have Been Friends
A while ago, one of our older neighbors passed away. I didn’t really know this man. He lived up the street from us, and I only saw him periodically when he came out to get his mail, and I happened to be walking our dog. He was friendly enough to say “Hello,” and chat a bit about the weather, but we never had a real conversation. I always recognized his full head of gray hair and his gray mustache when he jogged near his house or drove his maroon Mustang, and I sometimes saw him working in his garden or smoking a big cigar nearby as he relaxed afterwards while reading the newspaper. As I said, though, I didn’t really know much about him — until I visited his estate sale.
After this man’s death, I found out that he left behind a wife who decided that she didn’t want to live in that house by herself, so within the last month or so, I saw the “For Sale” sign go up out front, and just last week, the realtor added “Sale Pending.” I didn’t even know about the estate sale until I noticed a crowd of cars outside and decided to go in. I have always been intrigued by neighborhood garage sales and estate sales because sometimes I find exactly what I need, and at other times, I am just a nosy neighbor. On this day, I was a nosy neighbor. I wanted to see this man’s house, and I wanted to see what he left behind.
