A tribute (and farewell) to our first neighborhood

 

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Recently we moved from our first house, where we lived for six of the seven years we’ve been married. We had so many firsts surrounding that home… our first major purchase, adopting a rescue dog, bringing home Eadie from the hospital, then Graham.
The wonderful thing about the numerous special moments and memories from our first home is that we get to take them with us.

It feels bittersweet to leave our neighborhood and neighbors behind. We had great, kind neighbors and got along well with them. But on the other hand, despite our attempts, we found it very difficult to form relationships with our neighbors beyond a hello exchanged over the chain link fence. People in our neighborhood, maybe Americans in general, are very good at holding others at arm’s length, when what we need is true community.

Nevertheless, I’d rather focus on the things about our neighborhood that I loved. Here they are, in no particular order.

The retired gentleman who lived at the end of the street and understood community. Every morning in fair weather, his garage door was up. Inside his garage was a old wood table with several chairs around it. As he brought a pot of coffee out each morning, you never knew who’d be filling those chairs and drinking coffee with him – but there was always someone there.  He was the kind of friendly that made the mail carrier linger to chat. The UPS driver bonded with him. And the school bus driver made a special stop (kids sometimes still aboard) just to talk. He never met a stranger and always had a kind word for everyone passing by.  I want to be more like him.

The pack of little boys who never failed to remind me of the kids from The Sandlot.  They were a smidge dirty, a little rowdy, and filled to the brim with childhood mischief and creativity. My favorite memory of these boys was when we were taking a walk around the neighborhood one summer evening. The boys had rigged up a wooden ramp near the end of a dead end street. It looked rickety, and I’m pretty sure very few principles of physics had gone into its design. About fifty feet away, sitting on his bike, a boy who looked to be nine years old was facing the ramp apprehensively.  As he began to ride toward the imminent danger, one of the other little boys shouted out, “Yer gonna diiiiiiiiiiiieeee!” The daredevil continued peddling furiously and his courage almost brought him to the ramp. Instead, he ditched out at the last minute, resulting in a pretty impressive crash.

The landscape architect who built a beautiful lilypond directly on the edge of the sidewalk , knowing that every child in the neighborhood would stop and visit the fish. I’ve probably spent several cumulative hours holding onto my little ones as they hovered over the edge of the pond, saying hello to the fishies.  I’m sure it was tedious at times to clean that pond each season and restock it with fish, but it was such a gift to the neighborhood. We didn’t need to stop and smell the roses… we stopped to smell the lilies.

The avid gardener who created a beautiful landscape of twisting paths and perennials in her front yard. She meticulously labeled each plant, and tended her garden frequently. And to top it all off, she illuminated it with twinkling lights, inspiring Eadie to name her yard the “fairy garden”.  She added a little magic to the ordinary with her efforts.

The five year old triplet girls who lived on the next block over. They talked a mile a minute, had a thousand questions to ask, and couldn’t help but put a smile on your face.

The Cardinals fans – a husband and wife – who frequently sat in their corner backyard and watched the world go by. They were a bit reserved, but always quick with a wave and a smile. I loved their companionship… you could tell they were an older married couple who genuinely enjoyed one another. Plus, Cardinals fans.

I’m looking forward to our new neighborhood and forming relationships there. Because of the lessons learned from our first neighborhood, I’ll work harder to reach across the fence lines, add beauty for the sake of beauty, and let go enough to let our kids just be kids.

 

 

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