11:47 p.m. - 2009-10-05
Not Exactly A Tragedy, But Still Sad
Our across-the-street neighbor, Ruth, passed away a few weeks ago. Since she was well into her nineties, I'm going to go out on a limb and blame natural causes. K and I didn't know her all that well, but we both took a sort of comfort in seeing her outside on the sidewalk in front of her house every day (weather permitting), sweeping away debris and leaves and the like. Sure, society's gone all to hell, but as long as Ruth is still hanging around sweeping, so how bad can it be? Once when I came home and noticed that she was trying to lift an ancient television of roughly her size and mass into a trash receptacle, I ran across the street to help. After all the drudgery was finished, she remarked upon how she enjoyed listening to the occasional band rehearsals that took place in our house. In fact, she would sometimes (weather permitting) sit on her porch and listen to the rehearsals. AND, it turns out that she had played drums for a while, in school.
Ever since this conversation, I've been cognizant of the fact that Ruth MIGHT be listening to any music going on inside our house. Every time I was getting set to practice the vibes or drums, I would think: Okay, Ruth could be listening, so I'd better play something good. I've no doubt that this perceived Ruthfulness has made me a better musician. Nor do I doubt that she's similarly affected many others during the course of her life.
For now, her house sits empty. Eventually it will be newly occupied, hopefully by an individual or family with the type of generosity and tolerance exhibited by Ruth. Meanwhile, I'll keep practicing, striving to play well, as though Ruth could still hear whatever's going on in the neighborhood from wherever she is now.
