for mrs. chan

she was the oldest resident in my neighborhood. she’d been here longer than Mr. Don and Mr. Don has been here 30 years.  She didn’t speak english; the sum total of the few actual conversations I had with her was pretty much “twins?”  “yes” “Love” “yes” “LOVE. Beautiful” “yes”.  We’d have that conversation every time she came out of her little house next door to bring Double Trouble a pack of cookies (which I would eventually eat most of) or graham crackers or the occasional tootsie pop (which I would absolutely eat). It actually got to where they would run to her house whenever we went outside….and wait for her to come out. Sometimes she wasn’t there or didn’t realize they were out there so they’d just go about their business….but sometimes if they lingered around long enough or made enough noise, her front door would creak open and she’d come out; always with loot. and she’d look at me and say “okay?” and I’d say yes and she’d hand them the cookies (which I would later eat) or the graham crackers or the tootsie pops (which I would later eat).  then we’d have the conversation:

Twins. Yes. Love. Yes. Love. Beautiful. Yes.  

One day she pointed to herself and said “Chan” so we started calling her Mrs. Chan.

She was very kind to my children.

Sometimes her son would come over and mow her lawn and we’d see her come out and sweep the sidewalk and we’d always wave and if she saw the twins she’d run in and come back with loot and they loved her.  

We met her almost exactly one year ago when we moved in.  

She’d come outside and wait for her grandson to be dropped off by the school bus and sometimes I’d see her standing in the middle of the street when I came home.  We’d wave at each other but she didn’t talk to me until she saw the twins.  

twins. yes. love. yes. love. beautiful. yes.

She was an occasional fixture in our lives because she didn’t come outside all that much and we weren’t usually on the same schedule but late at night, when I’d come home,  there was always a nice warm glow coming from her house.  Sometimes her son would arrive at the same time I did to either pick up his son or drop her off….we’d wave but it was late so we didn’t talk.

But every. single. time. she saw the twins….she’d come over.

twins yes love yes love beautiful yes

There was something amiss the other day. We came home and there were a lot of cars in her driveway, more cars than we’d ever seen there before.  We went inside.  My mom was concerned. Something was up.

Today we got confirmation. 

She was 86. we think she was 86. The general consensus of the neighborhood was that she was 86.  

we talked about it with Mr. Don while the kids ran back and forth in front of her house. They giggled and screamed and we tried to make them be calm…but I knew what they were doing. they figured if they just stayed out there long enough, they’d get some loot.

I watched them play and was thinking of what to tell them and then something happened.

This is not a lie.

A little girl came out of Mrs. Chan’s house…her granddaughter perhaps…I don’t ever remember seeing her before.  She came out and walked over to my daughter and gave her a little purple flower.  Maggie took it and ran. She’d gotten some loot after all. I don't know if there is any grand meaning to that. but it sure feels like there is.

I didn’t know what to say to her son so I didn’t say anything….he was busy anyway but I think I’ll go over tomorrow and tell him that even though we only knew her a brief time and my kids, honestly will probably not remember her (okay i won't tell him THAT), I will never forget her.  Because she was kind to them in a pure, magical way that doesn’t happen all that often….or at least doesn’t happen all that often to me.  

She was a sweet old lady who gave treats to my kids and then reminded me that, for all the nonsense in my brain about how awful we can be as a species and about how easy it is to get lost in the darkness of everybody seemingly hating everybody else all the time for no reason, that it is possible to distill a connection down to a simple transaction,  let me give you something because you bring me joy.  In the end, the answer should be, always be, yes.

Love. Beautiful.  Yes.

I went outside tonight and stood in front of her house. He son had left a couple lights on  but it was not the same.  

The house is empty.

Somewhere inside is a cabinet that contains cookies and graham crackers and some tootsie pops.  

and next door, asleep right now are two little children who live in a better world because of the woman who lived there.

Goodbye, Mrs. Chan. You will be missed.  In the end, the beautiful love was you.

the yes was me.