Wendy,

I just found out that you have passed. I’ve been crying so much for the past few hours. I’m still crying…

I’ve texted several times and called. Now I know why I couldn’t reach you.

When I hadn’t heard back from you all this time, something told me to google your name this evening. I saw there was an obituary and I just couldn’t believe it.

Still can’t believe it.

You had mentioned to me a little while back that you might travel to visit friends or family? I kept seeing your little car parked in your driveway, and your yard has been kept up. I thought you’d just been away, out of town…..

When I saw there was an obituary, I immediately went down to your neighbor’s house that you always spoke so fondly of, Ken, and introduced myself, asking what had happened. He was such a sweetheart, gave me a big hug and let me know that you passed peacefully.

We stood out on his porch for almost an hour, reminiscing about our beloved neighbor, Ms Wendy Wallwork.

I’m so glad I knew you, even if it was only for a short while, only a year or so. I’ve loved our conversations we’ve had, whether it was about our mutual love of animals or our crazy (and sometimes sketchy!) neighborhood we live in.

The times when I happened to be driving by and see you out, working in your yard or relaxing on your porch, and I’d pull over to park and we’d just talk and talk for ages. Or if I was working in the yard, and you were walking your pup, you’d stop for a chat and to catch up.

You used to always text me to find out how Rico and Lala the cats were doing, and I’d send you photos of Lala sprawled across the floor, being super cute.

We used to always text or call each other every time something crazy was happening on one of our blocks; we’d chat about the drama, make sure we each were OK.

You were so unique, interesting, genuine, and funny. You were a great neighbor and a great friend.

I just can’t believe you’re gone… We were supposed to have dinner (you were going to make me a real home-cooked meal) and you were going to show me how to prune jasmine… Maybe we’ll get to do that one day, in another life. Or if there’s an afterlife, maybe I’ll see you there one day.

I will never forget you, Wendy.

Much love, and you will always be in my heart–

Your neighbor & friend,
Sheri