A Man Named Hector

Hector is my neighbor.  He lives across the street from me and was one of the first people to greet me when I moved into this neighborhood two years ago. He is absolutely delightful.  Always smiling, at 85 years young he still keeps a meticulously landscaped yard, adorns his house with the most festive of Christmas lights, and drives a mean snow blower when the brutality of the winter sets in.  What most stood out to me when I met him was how he spoke of his wife.  "Mama" is how he referenced her, ocasionally slipping in her name (Maria), He spoke of her beauty, what a wonderful wife and mother she was, and what a great cook.  (I guess the old adage is true...the way to a man's heart is through his stomach).  He also told me that she suffered a stroke ten years ago...a stroke that left her paralyzed. For a short time, she lived in a nursing home but because he could not bear to see her there, he brought her home and had been taking care of her ever since.  He bathed her, dressed her, cooked for her, fed her and tended to her every need.  He shared this with me very naturally, not with any amount of sadness, but almost with heart filled joy.  It was his privilege to care for this woman who shared his life...and it reminded me of the way my stepmom cared for my father.  She, too, tended to his every need, very patiently (most of the time), very lovingly, and with the determination that he would be treated as a king even as the disease of Parkinson's ripped away every ability that he once had. This act of selflessness to me speaks of true love.  You take your vows for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, and I witnessed firsthand the depth of this meaning.  I can only hope that my life will still bring me a partner who would go to these lengths for me if need be.

I noticed that Hector did not decorate his house for Christmas this year as he had normally done. He did manage to string a few lights but it was not the holiday display that the neighborhood had become accustomed to. While I found this odd, I gave it no more than a moment of thought and then continued with the hectic life that at times consumes me.  The holidays came and went and life continued as it always does.  Hours turned into days; days turned into weeks; weeks turned into months. When the snow finally came, I went outside to shovel and saw Hector once again.  He was there with his snow blower, jovial as always, stopping to say hello, making sure I was ok.   He reminded me, as he always does, that if I ever need anything, all I have to do is knock on his door.  I did mention how much I missed all his Christmas lights this year.  Holding back tears he told me he could just not do what he normally does this year.  You see, he said "My mama, my Maria..she died."  My heart sank. How could this man live directly across the street from me, suffer such a loss, and me, his neighbor not even know?  My heart broke for him as he shared with me the agony he felt the day he had to call the ambulance and how he knew that his sweet Mama would not be coming home.  He then proceeded to tell me that they shared 62 wonderful years together and then said "I will see her again. She's waiting for me."

I am not one that is generally lost for words, but at this moment I found myself struggling.  I wanted to share words of comfort but I know that words do little when your heart breaks for the loss of your love.  I have found that sometimes, the best thing to do is simply listen.  That I did while he slowly collected himself throughout the conversation.  His smile returned once again and conversation shifted to the snow that had come from out of nowhere creating havoc for drivers everywhere.  The snow hit two days before Valentine's Day and I wondered if Hector and Maria had celebrated this day at all.  Not all couples do, but regardless this day is symbolic of love and I wondered how he would be feeling as reminders of this day flood the radio and television.  As for me, I haven't had much of a Valentine's Day celebration in many years.  I haven't had a partner that made this day special for me in a long time and in all honesty, perhaps I had a skewed vision of what this day was supposed to be.

I left the conversation that day with a mixture of perplexed emotions.  My heart ached for Hector and the loss of his Maria.  I was very disappointed in myself that I did not know that she had passed.  I was a bit angry that even while noticing the difference in Hector's holiday decorations, I never took the time to find out if he was ok.  That is what's sometimes difficult about the hustle and bustle of the world we live in.  Neighborhoods aren't neighborhoods anymore.  They are often transient, with people coming and going, all too often not even knowing the names of the people who live right next door.  A feeling of sadness came over me when I thought about my lack of community when it came to my own neighborhood.

I decided that I wanted to do something for Hector on Valentine's Day.  I wanted him to know that someone was thinking of him.  I made him a pan of lasagna and brought it to him.  His eyes lit up when he saw me approaching his house.  He invited me inside and immediately apologized, lamenting that he is "poor."  I believe what he meant is humble, because there is nothing poor about his house.  It is modest, but it is charming. It is full of mementos that I can imagine Maria collected through the years with delight.  Photos of his children adorn every wall, along with old black and white photos of  his family in his home country of Peurto Rico,  We sat and talked for a while and I asked him if he met Maria in the United States or in Puerto Rico.  He delightfully told me the story of how he met "Mama."  He was in the service and Maria became his pen pal.  She would write to him every week.  I don't know how this happened but it seemed that it occurred through some formal organization that arranged for correspondence with servicemen.  He did have a fiance, though, in his home country of Puerto Rico and his plan was to finish his tour of duty, return to Puerto Rico and marry and then bring his bride to New York City to live where other members of his family had come.  When he got out of the service, however, he went to New York City and had the chance to meet his pen pal.  It was love at first sight.  The words he used "my heart, it just knew" brought me joy on this day that I would spend without a partner.  He told me that he promptly returned to Puerto Rico to bear the unfortunate news to his fiance that he would marry another.  He did not want to hurt that woman, whom he described as "so beautiful."  However, he knew his destiny was to marry Maria.  Within seven months they were married and in the next 62 years built a wonderful family and life.  He then told me about his children, including his son in law who met his daughter at the age of 16.  The courting occurred at home. His daughter was not allowed to go out with him. If he wanted to see her he had to come to the house and that is where they visited and "dated" until they married. He showed me photos of their wedding and of their children. His son in law died from cancer at the young age of 48.  He also showed me photos of his son who had also passed away from cancer at the age of 50.  He had no amount of sadness in his voice as he spoke of his son in law and his son, though I have no doubt their passing at the time was very difficult.  Now he rejoices in the life that they had and the memories that they built, blessings as he said often throughout our conversation.   He was very excited about the food I had brought him. He was going to call his daughter and tell her immediately what a nice thing I did.  He then invited me to stop over any time and visit and reminded me again that if I need anything, ever, all I had to do was ask.

I left Hector's home that day happy that I was able to visit with him.  I enjoyed hearing his stories and learning more about his family.  As delighted as he was to have my company and as much as I lifted his spirits, what he does not know is how much he lifted mine.  Each of us gets caught up in our own lives all too often and push aside the things that are truly important.  You see, nothing is as important as family, as the connection to one another, as kindness, compassion, laughter, celebrating moments, sunshine, children's laughter.   It is true that life is about the dash.  Hector provided a wonderful remembrance of that for me on a day meant to celebrate love.

People are placed into our lives for a reason and I truly believe Hector was placed in mine to remind me to slow down a little and celebrate the moments.  I went to dinner that evening with a group of female friends...my tribe.  We laughed, we swapped stories of our dating lives, we told each other how beautiful we are, we talked with the other restaurant guests who all seemed very intrigued that a group of women were out together on Valentine's Day, and we engaged the restaurant manager and staff in conversation.  We took pictures and each of us admitted that this was the best Valentine's Day we had had in a long time.  This was a celebration of love and I ended the evening feeling more optimistic than I had in a long time.  Thank you, Hector, for reminding me that love is all around us...and the dash is what makes it so.