Love Thy Neighbor
By Amanda Waley
“You shall love your
neighbor as yourself. There is no other
commandment greater than these.”
-Mark 12:31
“When peace like a
river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll; whatever my lot,
thou hast taught me to say, it is well, it is well with my soul.”
-The first verse of It is Well
with my Soul,
written by Horatio G. Spafford
with music by Philip P. Bliss
This is a
story about my neighbor, Annette “Tobie” Hickcox who was like a sister to
me. She was forty-four years old when
she died of pneumonia, and complications with diabetes. My mother verbally adopted her into my family
when her own mother passed away. She
took her mother’s death very hard because they were very close. Her mother became friends with my mother, and
Tobie switched from a downstairs apartment to one directly above her old
apartment when her mother could no longer walk up the stairs. My family stepped into the role of “adopted”
siblings when Tobie needed us the most.
For a while
she came over to my apartment across the yard once a week to watch movies with
my brother and I. Before she passed
away, she was over 2-3 times a week watching television, watching movies, and
having the occasional pizza party.
Tobie and I
started calling each other “Twin” even though she was fifteen years older than
me, and we weren’t related by blood at all because we were both accident-prone
and would end up comparing ouches. A lot
of the time, we had bruises and cuts in the exact same places. Most of her falls were the result of grand
mal seizures, whereas mine would be sheer clumsiness.
Whenever we
saw each other in public, we would greet each other with “Hey, Twin,” followed by the
E. T. phone home signal with our index fingers.
The E. T. thing is something I started doing with my mom when I wanted
to “phone the mother ship,” but with Tobie I would say “sister ship.”
Aside from
having epilepsy and diabetes, Tobie was partially deaf. When my brother and I were going to college
together, we took an American Sign Language course. Tobie would practice with us when we did our
homework. My mother is also hard of
hearing, so the Sign Language course was supposed to help talk to her,
too. Even though a lot of what my mother
learned in her Sign Language class wasn’t retained, it was like we were
teaching her some of the signs again.
Tobie also
volunteered a couple times a week at the local Library in the Children’s
department. She always loved being
around kids even though she never had any of her own. Since her death, I’ve began volunteering at
the same Library once a week with my brother to continue something in her
memory. She loved working at the
library.
A few
months before Tobie passed away, my dad lost his battle with prostate cancer
and the Lord called him home. That’s one
of the reasons Tobie ended up coming over so much before she died. Because most of my brothers and sisters were
very close to my dad, and my brother, Ray, and I would visit him several times
a week. My brother, Vern, and sister,
Amee, ended up taking care of him a lot in his final months by taking him to
several doctor’s appointments, going shopping for him, and making sure he
didn’t skip any medications. They were
both at his bedside when he drew his last breath along with my nephew, Aaron,
who was visiting his dad.
Tobie got
sick with what she thought was the flu, but she wasn’t getting any better. She had her housekeeper make an unscheduled
visit on one of her regular days off to take her to a doctor’s appointment. Her housekeeper came over, and had a hard
time getting my neighbor to open the door to let her in. Tobie had been sleeping on the couch, and the
door was locked. My neighbor seemed
confused, and delirious for five minutes.
Finally, the housekeeper got her to unlock the door and she called
9-1-1. The housekeeper found out later
the doctor’s appointment was actually set for the following week.
The first
night Tobie was in the hospital, she went into cardiac arrest and had a stroke
that she never recovered from. My mom
and I visited her in the ICU, my brother and I got her apartment key to take
care of her cats while she was in the hospital, and found her uncle’s phone
number in her address book and called him to let him know what happened. He lives in Colorado ,
and couldn’t make it to Oregon
One week
before all this happened; I made Tobie promise to come over for a movie night
the following week thinking she would get better. A week after she died, I believe I got the
visit I was promised. I was sleeping in
my bed the following Friday night, and I shot up out of bed when I heard the
word “Twin” in her voice. Then I heard
giggling after I said “Twin” back. I had
been praying for a sign from God that Tobie was okay. I knew when she was alive she attended church
regularly, and believed in God. However,
she was never really sure if she was ever baptized, and that’s what had me
worried the most. The thought of never
seeing her in the sweet by and by. Ever
since that night, I’ve been comforted knowing I’ll see her again someday, and
she’s happy where she’s at because she’s reunited with her mother and Heavenly
Father.
Soul Sisters[1]
I’m glad I had met
My soul sister, Annette,
Before we both were gone.
She was a great shoulder to lean on
After my dad died
Because she experienced something similar
When her mother died,
And she cried,
But got a new “family”
With me
In it, and a support system
She couldn’t beat.
Have you ever been so close
To someone that they become
A brother or sister
Even though you’re not related by blood?
I told her often she was my sister
From another mother,
And I don’t know what I would’ve done
Without her kindness and smiling face
To brighten up the place.
[1]
Copyright June 2011 by Amanda Waley. The
poem is taken from pg. 87 of Second
Thoughts: A Collection of Poetry by Amanda Waley. Published by Lulu Press.
I also have a second story to submit to "Chicken Soup for the Soul" typed up, but I still need to add more to it. It's still a work in progress, but I don't have to submit that story until December 31st.
