“How are you?”   Lois, my next-door neighbor asked me one summer morning as she watched me rush to my backyard.  Her arms rested on the wooden rail of our common fence.

“My blueberries are growing wild.” She had a twinkle in her eyes. “Do you like blueberry pie?”   Pleasantly plump with radiant blue eyes, she exuded warmth.

We shared meals, memories and laughter like a pair of blissful teenagers; both of us, white haired grandmothers and Geminis. We shared a love for family, sweets, books, nature, and pets. Lovingly, in my mind, she became like the precious gift of an older sister.

The happy years, however, marked their steps, and one morning Lois lost her ability to walk.  A faithful walker was her companion, as her blue eyes still shone when looking at her wild blueberry bushes.

Months later, she didn’t wake up. She lay peaceful and beautiful, her lips curved.

Now, each time I walk by that wedge of fence, that space glows like a celestial hello, an endless smile from my beloved next-door neighbor.  And I smile as well.