I just finished putting together this fresh fruit salad. I found pineapple, grapes, strawberries, oranges, and blackberries on sale this week and didn't want to wait too long to use them. We're doing better about not wasting food around here.
I'm going to take some of the fruit salad to a neighbor who lost his wife last week. It's such a shame we aren't closer to neighbors these days. His kids and our daughter attended the same schools but we were never very close to the parents. We always waved and spoke when we saw each other outside, but I'm sorry to admit we didn't know them very well. What's worse is although we've lived across the street from them for many years, we had no idea the wife had been seriously ill, or that she had passed, until a neighbor on a different street told us early this week. How sad is that? I saw her driving week before last and as she passed me she waved, as usual. I waved back, never suspecting that would be the last time I'd see her. I'm rather ashamed I was so out of touch with my neighbors but what they were enduring was not something they were eager to share with the world. How would one announce such a thing?
I'd love to return to simpler, kinder times where neighbors knew more about each other and maybe shared morning coffee at the kitchen table, as my mom and her neighbors did years ago. I'd like to feel comfortable borrowing a cup of sugar or an egg and then return the favor by replacing what was borrowed and adding something freshly baked as a thank you. How good it would be to talk over the fence to our neighbors and smell the fresh aroma of linens hanging on the clothesline drying in the sun. Are those days gone forever? Maybe all we can hope for now is to be more in touch and more sensitive to what our neighbors are experiencing. I'm aware that a fruit salad won't ease the grief my neighbor is feeling, but it will let him know someone in the neighborhood cares.