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Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore


Her name was Alice, just Alice.
I never knew her last name.
She lived with her son Charlie, or should I say Charlie lived with her. He is himself elderly, just a guy who never grew up. I see him every day riding his bike around the neighbourhood. The other day, I saw he put a For Sale sign on his bike. Fifty bucks to the lucky new owner.
I knew something had gone terribly wrong. Alice wasn't sitting on her porch waving to the neighbours. The usual flowers weren't being hung up but I figured she was waiting for the 24th of May weekend, that time all old folks will tell you is the perfect time for perennials after the frost had eventually left town.
I knew for sure that something wasn't right when I saw a For Sale sign on Alice's house earlier in the week.
My worst fears were confirmed.
Alice doesn't live here anymore.
The tiny house where she raised six children sold within 24 hours. Charlie had put out a few belongings in the trash, but otherwise there was no sign of him. I guess he was looking for a place -- free at last to pursue his most bohemian tendencies. He'll miss the old doll but he might have a little scratch in his pocket.
Alice lived next door but there were few sightings of her in recent years. The last time I saw her, she was walking down the road with her daughter who told me it was Alice's 100th birthday. I talked to her, she smiled but she clearly didn't remember me even though we'd had long chats on her porch over the eight years we've lived here. I went into her house a bit later, and the place was over-flowing with people: her kids, her grandkids. I gave her a kiss; she gave me some cake.
What a wonderful woman she was, with a life full of laughter and children.
She got to live in her own home until the very end.
Tragically, she died on the operating table while a doctor was trying to give her a new hip.
Really? A hip. At 102.
That told me she wasn't giving up on life, and was looking to the future.
Not a bad way to go, really, not clutching a chest or dying of some terrible disease.
Just a bit bummed that the hip didn't take.
I'll miss Alice of Connery Avenue. Seeing her always gave me hope for the future.
A wink and a smile on an otherwise dreary day.
Goodbye Alice.
It was always good to see you, even though I didn't really know you.


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