Our next-door neighbor Mr. Chris is the best. Most laid-back, kind person ever. He's surrounded on both sides by large families of small children even though his two girls are adults. Instead of being annoyed by the chaos, he adopted all the kids as his own grandkids. Plus he was just a fun guy! We've talked often about how lucky we are to have Chris as a neighbor.
One evening as we were getting the kids ready for bed, we noticed cop cars with light on outside Chris's house. I texted him to see if everything was okay, assuming it was probably a break-in or some kind of theft. When I didn't hear back, I texted his daughter, who is just as awesome as Chris. We just wanted to be there to help in case something was wrong. I was literally in shock when she texted back that her dad had died. Apparently he stopped responded to texts, so she called for a welfare check. He was gone. Jon and I went over and cried with her. Our kids were devastated, as were the neighbor kids. Chris was not that old and he was always taking his bike out for rides or going on hikes. No warning. We had all just chatted with him days before.
We did what we could for his daughters over the following days. Thankfully they have wonderful family around and were never alone. But it was still a shock to walk outside, see his house and realize he would never pop out to say hi again. My heart was broken for his daughters and for my kids.
His daughters invited us and the neighbors to the viewing and funeral. I felt like it was important for my kids to go and say goodbye. They were a little confused because it was a cremation, but Chris's daughters were so happy to see all the kids there.
This was my first Catholic funeral and it was beautiful and fascinating. His daughter brought over a huge bag of suckers to keep the kids happy as the funeral started. Who thinks of that during her dad's funeral? This is why we love their family so much. After the funeral we attended the luncheon, which was SO much fancier than usual LDS potluck funeral luncheons. Our family and the neighbors were the only ones with kids, so we sat together and tried to limit the chaos.
Pretty sure this is the fanciest meal my kids have ever eaten.
Hopefully we weren't a huge distraction!
I had my YW help cut out hearts, then had my kids write sweet notes.
I loved seeing their door full of love:
I've realized that writing is my therapy, so I wrote this a few days after he passed away. It's super long but has lots of awesome memories of Chris:
Maybe that makes this all the harder. That it could have just as easily been my dad. Maybe even more easily. Chris is younger than Dad. Dad has gotten to love on all his grandkids. Chris's girls haven't even married yet. Their kids will never know their grandpa.
And what a wonderful grandpa Chris was. From the moment we moved into this house he has adopted our kids as his own. If I didn't know where a particular kid was (especially Catherine or Elise) there was a good chance they were over at Mr Chris's house being spoiled rotten by Chris and his daughters. His oldest daughter is also named Catherine. Despite the fact that she is much older and taller, she was always Little Catherine and my daughter was Big Catherine. My Catherine thought that was hilarious.
I loved hearing his stories about sticking it to the stupid HOA. Our HOA doesn't allow sheds, so he bought a "playhouse" that was conveniently big enough for bikes to fit inside. At which point the HOA banned playhouses, but Chris already had his and was grandfathered in. The "playhouse" still proudly sits in his backyard even though both of his girls are college grads with full time jobs. Elise and her friends love to raid the shed for the little plastic table and chairs. They set up a little picnic area, complete with little white garden fencing around it. Chris would always provide an array of snacks for their meal, regardless of the fact that he never knew when the picnics were going to occur.
He also had a wooden fence which the HOA insisted had to be painted white. And so, once a decade or so, he would slap on a single layer of paint and call it good until the HOA started threatening him again. Until then, the fence was untouched.
One of my favorite pictures is one that Caroline took of Chris crouched next the fence. She couldn't figure out what he was doing there until she realized Elijah was standing on the other side, chatting with Chris. Any time he was in his backyard, my kids would rush over to pepper him with questions or fill him in on their latest obsession. He was always excited to talk with them, no matter what he had been trying to get done in his yard before they interrupted.
Mr. Chris's trees were also huge favorites. He had a small maple tree in his front yard. Apparently the HOA decided all the houses needed a tree and just plopped it in his yard one day. But over the years the tree started to lean. And in true Chris vs the HOA fashion, he did nothing to stop it. We laughed when other neighbors went to great lengths to keep their trees upright, only to have them go down in various storms. But not Chris's tree. It just leaned a little more every year. My littles loved it when it got really low because they could just walk up the trunk to "climb" the tree. By that point it was basically horizontal but somehow still in the ground. It was a sad, sad day when the biggest rainstorm we've ever seen finally took it down.
But don't worry: the kids all migrated to the magnolia tree next to his house instead. If school is out and the weather is nice, there are usually 2-3 kids swarming the tree and another couple playing in the dirt underneath. He was never phased when he'd go out to check the mail and find a tree full of neighborhood kids. Instead he'd come over and get filled in on whatever activity was currently happening in his tree. He also never minded the balls, buckets, and tools they left all over his front lawn. He knew they would be used again the next day.
And then there were the gifts. I don't even know how many times my kids would come running inside with random gifts from Mr Chris. A birdseed feeder shaped like a gingerbread man. A fitness watch. Water bottles. Whatever it was, my kids thought it was a treasure because it came from Mr Chris. But there were also gifts like a key lime pie, directly from Key West. All because my Catherine mentioned liking key lime pie before they headed down to Florida.
Mr Chris also was the owner of Boh, the best dog ever. We will never own a dog thanks to Jon, but having a neighbor dog is the next best thing. Possibly even better than owning one, because we got all the fun with no responsibilities. And Boh was just as patient and loving as his owner, never caring which child was currently clinging to his neck. I think Boh single-handedly ate every stick in our yard (which my kids happily fed him). When Boh unexpectedly died of cancer it broke all our hearts.
Mr. Chris was also an awesome neighbor to the adults. We talk often about how lucky we are to have him next door. Not everyone would put up with the noise and toys and chaos of our five kids (plus the other four kids who live next to him on the other side, plus all the various friends they invited). We never got angry phone calls or terse comments. Instead he would give me ashes from his fire pit for my garden. Or take care of our stupid robotic lawn mower when it would get stuck (several times a day) while we were gone for weeks on summer vacations. But the best part was just talking with him. He kept up to date on our family and kept us up to date on his girls. I always looked forward to talking with him. He wasn't just a neighbor. He was my friend.
I keep expecting to see him. I look out my back window and expect to see him walking through his backyard. To walk out to check the mail and spend half an hour just chatting. To hear him laugh as my kids leave random snow creations in his yard. Elise is getting baptized next month and she wanted Mr Chris to be there. At Halloween my kids always made a point to stop by his house. He always answered, no matter how late we got home. There's a huge hole in all of our hearts, and those kinds of holes never quite fill in.
I've felt sad the last several days. And angry. I've had lots of very pointed conversations with God. But the past couple of days I've mostly just felt grateful. I'm grateful we happened to move next door to one of the kindest men I've ever met. I'm grateful my kids had him as a "grandpa" since one of theirs lives in Arizona and the other passed away a few years ago. "What is grief, if not love persevering?" We love you, Mr. Chris. Thank you for loving us and sharing your family and your home. And don't worry, we love your girls the same way you loved our kids. They won't be alone.
