Life in The Villages

Here in The Villages Diane and I live in a neighborhood brought into being 20 years ago. We and many of our neighbors have lived here from the start. Some of our original neighbors have died, or moved away, or entered some form of assisted living. Other slightly younger folks have bought their homes and changed the neighborhood demographics somewhat. But time marches on, so the change is hardly noticeable. Just do the math and you'll realize we're an aged bunch. 

Because we’ve lived in this neighborhood for so many years, most of us tend to watch out for each other. After all, as Dear Diane and I often remind ourselves, “We’re just a bunch of geezers and geezettes, who sometimes need a little help.” Too often the help we provide, or try to provide, progresses in strange and circuitous ways. In many respects I’m probably the least helpful neighbor. My excuse? I’m just not at home very much. Ministries in our parish keep me on the move and too often away from home. Perhaps I should learn to focus more on that which is near to me. I’m trying to work on that, as I come to the understanding that others can do all that I do, and likely do it better. But enough self-analysis. Let me offer an example of neighbors helping neighbors by relating a series of events that took place a not long ago. 

One Saturday evening I had returned home from the 4 pm vigil Mass when I received a detailed text from a neighbor. She informed me an ambulance had arrived at another neighbor’s home, and soon after the EMTs placed someone in the ambulance and left, presumably headed for the hospital. She couldn’t identify whether the “patient” was a man or a woman. I had some questions, so she suggested I call the couple’s immediate neighbor who had been directly involved. So I called the other neighbor, who provided more detail. Apparently, unknown to me, the wife, suffering from pneumonia, had been admitted to the hospital the day before. On Saturday afternoon she’d tried to call her husband to ask if he would bring a few needed items to the hospital, but he hadn’t answered the phone. Understandably concerned, she called her immediate neighbor. That couple went next door and found the husband disoriented and unable to walk even a few steps. They called for an ambulance which ultimately took him to the hospital. 

Two problems arose. First, when she called the hospital, the immediate neighbor could get no information on the man’s condition — standard hospital protocol. They were told only that he was in the ER. Second, the hospitalized couple have a dog. The immediate neighbors fed the dog, took him out for a few minutes, then returned him to his own home. Later, at about 9 p.m., they discover the husband had definitely been admitted. So they called me and asked the big question: What to do with the dog? They were in the process of training their own new puppy, so really couldn’t introduce another dog into their home. No problem. Because Diane and I love dogs, we volunteered to take temporary custody of Scout, a little Shih Tzu. Scout knew and trusted us, had been a pal of our dear, late Maddie, and had been in our house several times. So I went to Scout’s home, let myself in, gathered some dogfood and a few other items, then took the little critter back to our home.

As it turned out, Scout’s owners each spent about a week in the hospital, then several more weeks at a local rehab facility. Throughout it all Scout adjusted well, slept on our bed, and accompanied me on my daily walks. He and I established a routine that worked well for both of us. It seems, however, he got rather attached to me. According to Diane, whenever I left the house, Scout would sit by the door until I returned. She, of course, was the one who fed him, so perhaps his loyalty was more than a little displaced. I just think he’s one of those “guy dogs.” I tell you all this so you won’t think Diane and I were inconvenienced. We weren’t, not the slightest. It was a joy. We had recently lost our little Maddie, and Scout’s “parents” were friends, so we were the logical candidates to care for Scout. All went well. Many other neighbors contributed in a variety of helpful and far more meaningful ways. Scout is now back home with his “mom and dad,” who are recovering well.

Since these events, just a month or so ago, several similar situations have arisen in the neighborhood. In each instance different neighbors have stepped in and cared for those in need. Some even took ill neighbors into their homes and provided temporary care. Christians and Jews, these good people live their faith and instinctively help others whenever needed. 

And yet, the neighborhood isn’t perfect, because all of us who live here are imperfect as well. Sadly, you and I are too often ready to focus of others’ imperfections or criticize them over petty issues. Perhaps we should look in the mirror and remove the beam from our own eye. Yes, we know our neighbors, or think we do. We hear the stories (the neighborhood gossip) and too often spread it around a bit. But at some point we must accept that no one, at that includes you and me, is perfect. We’re all sinners. But most of these imperfections we carry around with us are not horrible things; they’re just human things. And as we see in the Gospel, Jesus is remarkably tolerant toward them. He forgives, he loves, just as we must forgive and love.

God likes to keep things simple, while we’re the ones who complicate everything. God told us to do two things, and if we do them, all else just falls in line: Love the Lord, your God with your whole heart, soul, mind, and strength; and love your neighbor as yourself. If we all did that, just imagine the kind of world we’d have. And even though we live in a sinful world, we are blessed with an occasional glimpse of God’s love right here in our neighborhoods as we witness neighbor helping neighbor. 

Love your neighbor, sisters and brothers — love your neighbor as you love yourself. Perhaps that’s the problem today. Too many people don’t love themselves, so they can hardly love another. And if you don’t love yourself, just remember, God knows everything about you, and yet He loves you more deeply than you could ever imagine. Once you understand and accept this, and learn to love yourself, loving others becomes much easier.