Chronicles of K. Mouse: #31
The paradoxical truth of urban neighboring is that although I said hello to my neighbor nearly every day in summers of 2014,15,16, and 17, I did not even know his full name until I read his obituary. All I knew was that he was the “grandpa” next door with whom we exchanged greetings at any possibility, sometimes several times a day. When it became too cold to sit on the porch, the season would be over, and I would hardly ever see my neighbor until we would resume our greeting routine in the spring. This summer I won’t be doing that.
Rest in Peace, Mr. Hernandez.