When you live in an apartment building, there’s a good likelihood that there’s another apartment building close by. My apartment is at the back of my building and across the parking lot is another.
You can’t help but notice your “neighbours”. Some are a little peculiar, some are exhibitionist, others are just…there.
For the entire time that Vince and I have lived here (since November 2000), there has been a unit on the building behind me occupied by an older woman, who always had white cardboard in her windows to block the sun. The only things I truly know about her is she’s not a fan of sun, she’s not a fan of heat (has a window air conditioner), and she’s a cleaning machine.
And now she’s gone. As in passed away. I watched three people packing up everything. That alone wouldn’t have told me she had died, they could have been helping her move. It was the sorting and throwing everything they could away, and the hugs they gave each other as they paused to look at something.
I never knew her, but in a weird way, I think I’m going to miss her.