I no longer subscribe to the "she may have been chasing a stray pet" theory.
And there really is no such thing as a safe neighborhood anymore - at least not when my mother died and I spent the last few years of her life living with her. Once she passed away I was staying the night with in the house - the same one I was a child growing up in.
It was pretty dark out, nighttime, I had just gone to bed trying to fall asleep.
My bedroom was in the front of the house and I was still awake, my instinct telling me to be mindful of my surroundings.
I heard a car park across the street, footsteps up the driveway, and a knock on the door. Yes, between 10 PM and 11 PM at night during the week.
Then I hear the doorbell.
I finally hear the words from a man standing on the other side of the front door:
"I ran out of gas. Can you help me?"
This, in a residential section, nearest gas station 3 miles away.
My hand was on the gun on the bedstand. Yes, it was loaded.
Heard his footsteps go back to his car and leave. No, he had not run out of gas at all.
And I remained silent, no lights on during the entire time, still in bed, thinking about what just happened.
My mother's obituary in the local papers mentioned the address!!!!
To make matters worse, it also had to mention her husband (Dad) who passed away a few years earlier.
My husband and I have talked the serious issues over, including death, and we have both agreed to not have any obits in the papers, no funerals (we will be getting cremated, ashes spread somewhere), no addresses mentioned.
Yes I was scared as hell at the time that strange man approached the front door, something which has never before happened in our neighborhood.
But I had a loaded gun in hand, all lights out, extremely silent.
Had I made the wrong move I could have been killed.
True event.
