I had often thought of baking something (an experiment of course) and taking it over to him. I liked him a lot. He would be up in the wee hours of the morning in the winter and you know he is out there when you hear the shovel on the sidewalk as he shovels the snow off both his and his neighbours' sidewalks.
It's been snowing for two days now, and his absence is very noticeable, the sidewalks have not been shoveled. I just opened the front door to check if the snow was accumulating heavily, and wondered if I ought to salt it, and I heard a shovel on the sidewalk. It was his beautiful wife, shovelling. If I were not with child, I would go out and do it for her. It seems wrong that she should be doing it. She must miss him so much.
What makes me so sad, is that it took this man's death for us to step into his house and speak to his wife. Take nothing for granted, not a day, not a soul ... life is too short.