My elderly neighbor died a few days ago. She was feisty, frequently grumpy, and made me laugh. We got to know each other best after she crashed her Cadillac and I ended up driving her to her hair appointment every Wednesday at 10:30-on-the-dot. The day before Hazel died, she roused from her morphine slumber and politely asked her daughter to open the window in her hospital room. Puzzled, her daughter asked why. And with some of the most comforting words a dying mother could have spoken to her child, she answered the question with this: Because when He closes a door, He opens a window.
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