My Neighbor Across the Hall Just Died

Tom was one of the first friends I made after moving to New York in 1986. Imagine our surprise eight years later when we bumped into each other in front of our apartment doors; I had just moved in without either of us knowing we'd now be across-the-hall neighbors. Over the years, we hung out in each other's places, shared building gossip, and befriended one another's visitors. Then, we drifted apart because that's often what happens. We spent less time in New York, more time with partners, and would only occasionally run into each other coming and going. The last time this happened was two weeks ago. I think we laughed about the unusually warm weather. Tom seemed well.

I learned that Tom died in his apartment yesterday afternoon. I'm not in the city right now, but the neighbors whose door is perpendicular to ours, texted me last night with the terrible news. I know that Tom had been dealing with many challenges for years, but as I write, I do not know the circumstances of his death.

Comfort from next door

I'm sharing this in real-time here because, in the midst of my shock and sadness, I have been comforted by connecting with the only two neighbors on my floor with whom I still interact.

When I moved into my Manhattan building 35 years ago, I lived in a Seinfeld episode. We 25 or so seventh-floor residents were always in each other's places, co-hosted parties, and some of us would even hang out occasionally in the Hamptons. We all knew at least a few things about one another, and in some cases, each other's parents, siblings, and out-of-town guests.

These connections were fun, and they really paid off during a couple of lengthy summer blackouts, Superstorm Sandy, and definitely on 9/11 and the weeks and months following that terrible day. I clearly remember sitting together in our smoky apartments just one mile north of the fallen towers, wondering about the fates of other neighbors, the firefighters from the nearby firehouses, and our fellow New Yorkers. On the night of 9/11, I wandered aimlessly around the neighborhood with two hall mates, and we were so grateful that we were not alone in this time of disbelief and despair.

Know thy neighbor

When the neighbors who texted me moved in a year ago, I suggested we grab a coffee or drink. They seemed genial, and I remember thinking it would be civilized to get to know the people with whom I share walls. We had a nice time, haven't see much of each other since, but I am so happy I currently have them as cushions, and they me. They are unsettled as well after experiencing yesterday's parade of EMTs, a stretcher in the hallway, and now police tape across Tom's door.

Do you know the neighbors on your hall or in your neighborhood? Have you introduced yourself and offered future assistance with emergency condiment or dog-walking needs? Do you look up from your phone, make eye contact, and say hello when someone joins you on the elevator or passes on the sidewalk? I must do more of this because it's really helping me right now, and as your stress coach, I encourage you to do the same.

Thank you for being here

I imagine that I will be closer with these newer neighbors going forward, even if our interactions remain few and far between. This can only be a good thing when future events around us will be easier to cope with thanks to someone close by who shares my relationships, experiences, and air.

For the past 35 years, Tom was one of these people for me. I should have been more helpful to him. I wish that Tom was still across the hall. I wish him peace.