Jimmy

This post is in memory of our dear neighbor, Jimmy Urban. Jimmy was a friend of the family long before he was my neighbor. He grew up with my dad and my aunts and uncles just two doors down the road. He was an only child and never moved away from home. He became his parents' caregiver as they grew older and as their health started to deteriorate. 

Not only did he help care for his family, but he also cared for my grandma as if she were his own family. They had a great, easy friendship. Grandma would sit in her corner chair and Jimmy would let himself in through the unlocked front door, sit and shoot the shit with "Mrs. Wiedmeyer" -- as he still referred to her in her last living days and in his own. And on the warm summer days, they would sit on the front porch swing and do the same. It was the easiest way for them to keep an eye on the neighborhood -- and the two of them were quite the nosy neighbors. 

Being that my Grandma never drove and Jimmy retired early, he was also a big help in taking her to appointments and grocery shopping. And since she also lived alone, he was a comfort to us with his daily drop-ins to make sure that she was okay. 

I was certain that when we moved into my Grandma's house, we would have absolutely no privacy. I was completely wrong. Although Jimmy still knew an abnormal amount of information regarding our lives, he never over stepped his boundaries on letting us settle in and live our life. 

He certainly did come by every once in a while to sit on the swing and check out the garden. And we enjoyed our visits by his house where he would invite us in to chat or show Avett around his yard to look at all of his lawn ornaments. 

He loved the neighborhood kids. And the neighborhood kids loved him. For being a shy kid, Avett never had a problem walking right up to Jimmy to start babbling with him. He brought so much joy to Jimmys life. I'm glad we got to share Avett with him. And I'm sorry our baby girl will not get to meet him, and Jimmy her. 

With this pregnancy, I have been a lot more private in sharing the news and updates. My experience with Millie has taught me that not all babies who are conceived will make it, and not all who are born are healthy. It has made me obtusely aware of these facts, and so I have been cautious and guarded should anything happen. Jimmy had just recently found out through the grape vine about our pregnancy a month or two before he passed. I remember the excitement in his voice and how it grew exponentially when I shared that Lissa is carrying as well and due just a week and a half after me! 

In the weeks between then and his death, I did not get over much to see him. 

For being so grossly aware of how precious a baby's life can be, I 100% took for granted how precious Jimmy's life was. In the past year he was diagnosed with cancer. He went through radiation treatments and all seemed to be well. I pictured warmer days, walking over to his house, bringing him veggies from the garden, chatting about lake life, introducing him to the newest Bollwahn member, etc. Well, in that month since I had last spoken with him, his cancer had returned and reaped havoc on his body. In a very short amount of time, he became frail and was in much pain.

For someone who is so nosy about other people's ongoings, he was very private about his life. I did not learn about his ailing health until he was admitted to Hospice care in Waukesha on April 15th. Things sounded grim, and for all that he has done for our family, I wanted to be there for him and let him know that we care! I visited him on Saturday. I brought a card and a plant. I could have never read the card to him for how sad it would have made us both. My heart had already sunk when I saw him. He looked ten times better than what I was picturing, but he was frail, and weak, and highly sedated. He came in and out of conciousness and in his moments of clarity, he responded as enthusiastically to my updates as he always did. I will always remember his joy and smile when I told him Baby B would be a girl! Even in the worst of pain, he was unapologetically happy for us. That's the way he always was. A very very kind soul. 

I kissed him on his forehead and choked out my goodbye. And he yelled at me not to cry. :) and two days later he went to rejoin his parents and the rest of the 93rd street gang who went before him. 

He is greatly missed. I still look out my door and expect to see him on his porch or see his face peering out the diamond window -- life will never be the same. 

Rest peacefully our dear friend.