Miss Lola, I'll miss you!

There is a neighbor, directly across the street from me, whom I have known well enough during my almost 12 years in this house that I'm getting ready to move out of. I call her Miss Lola, out of respect.
She and her husband felt safe enough (as black people) to move to this neighborhood after the couple who used to own my house before me. Her husband was a doctor, and she worked at McGhee-Tyson Airport. In fact, the first several years that Jack and I lived here, she was still working. Her husband passed away during the early 90s (cause of death is unknown to me). She drove a green 1970 Buick LeSabre, in 100% mint condition. Every afternoon, when she pulled in her driveway, I would watch like a child as she would walk to her carport, grab her special cloth and bug remover, then walk back to the car and begin her daily routine of cleaning the entire front end of it off, all the way down to the bumper and below it. I could only wish to be that industrious.
Miss Lola's house and yard are both spotless, to this day. Her favorite thing in the world is gardening. I remember watching her come back outside, after working all day at the airport, now donning a gardening jacket and hat, with a hoe and bucket or gardening tools in hands, then going at it in that rather wide strip along her driveway and in front of her porch and she wouldn't stop until it was so dark, she couldn't see outside anymore.
This lady was passionate about basically everything she did, and it showed.
The past month or so has seen this house with a couple of vehicles in the yard, and occasional beating and banging on the inside. I know what that means, and I have a feeling you readers do as well.
Time has provided all the kindness to her freedom in life that it's going to allow, I suppose. I just saw her outside with that same jacket and hat on, but she was just standing there. She almost seemed to be in another place in her mind, and I don't blame her. I'm beginning to see the outline of her shoulders, and it hurts me to no end seeing her like that. I know how much she wants to take all her tools out and take care of the few weeds before it rains again, this weekend. But it's more than clear that she's unable to do it.
Miss Lola's situation is not unique. In fact, it's becoming all too common around me. But, seeing her in this condition tears me up because here's a lady who really gave a damn about the earth she stepped on, as well as the earth around her. She tended it, worked it, took good care of it, and the earth she partook in always rewarded her for it. Now, those days are gone and she's still standing there, in the same spot, just looking down.
My heart breaks for this lady. I will miss her so much when I'm gone, but the sad part is that she's already living part time somewhere else. I have only seen smoke coming from the chimney a couple of days a week, anymore. That's the time when she's at home. I wonder where home is for her, these days? I have been afraid to ask, because I don't want to break down in front of her. Also, I don't want to interrupt the people who are obviously updating the interior of her home.
Miss Lola, I know you'll never read this....but this post is for you. Bless you, and may you somehow find happiness in the rest of your days, hopefully surrounded by family and friends. I'll miss you, sweet lady!