For the first 2 years of our marriage, we rented housing. The first year, we rented an apartment that was right on the trolley line in a building close to Mark’s work. He was 2 minutes from work, I had a 50 minute commute, but I didn’t mind using that time to read. The 2nd year, we moved to a duplex that was about half way between our jobs. I walked to the trolley but most days I loved it because it reminded me of walking to school. Finally, going into our 3rd year of being married, we bought our first house and we’ve been here ever since.
We weren’t looking for houses in this neighborhood because it was a further commute for Mark. But I grew up in this neighborhood and this house was on the market and honestly, I was just nosy about what it looked like inside. The night we looked at it, Mark almost didn’t agree to see it. It was the last house on a list of about 6, all of which were dumps in the wealthier district we were trying to buy in. He reluctantly agreed and we fell in love. It had more space, more yard, more charm, more everything and was about $40,000 less than anything we were looking at in the other school district. Looking back, I know if we had bought a house in the other district, I might not have had the choice to stay home, so I consider it providence that this house was on the market.
My mom and dad each lived about a block away and I wondered whether their proximity would annoy Mark. He assured me that I’d probably be more annoyed than him.
It was a blessing living so close to my mom and also my step-mom and dad when we started having kids and I can’t believe I didn’t anticipate how wonderful it would be. Not only for emergencies and sitting when we went out (not that often) but the joy in having your parents get to know their grandchildren so well. I mean really know them as people and get to enjoy them. I actually don’t know how couples manage without family close by.
The other thing I didn’t anticipate was how important and wonderful neighbors are to a sense of home and well-being. I think because I worked so much and didn’t have children yet, I hadn’t realized how valuable neighbors are in the apartments that we rented. The very first day we moved into our house, our next-door neighbor placed 4 huge ripe-red tomatoes on our porch. He picked them from the garden that was between our yards and it was his way of introducing himself to me. It couldn’t have been a better introduction because it showed how open and sweet and generous he was. When we went on vacation, Bob either mowed our grass himself or when he became unable to cut grass, he’d pay his lawn-care guy to cut it. In that other neighborhood, people would report you to the municipal authorities for not having the grass mowed while on vacation. Bob and his wife, my dear friend, Lucy, really taught me how to be a decent neighbor. I say “decent” because since they set the bar, very few meet or exceed it. But they just showed how to care for others. I tend to be shy and more reserved and would never have thought on my own to extend myself the way they have. I would have went about my business, not bothering them, but being polite. “Hi, how are you?”. That would have been the extent of my interaction had it not been for them reaching out. That’s pathetic, since, as I said, I grew up in this neighborhood and knew a lot of the people and families.
This past snowstorm offered more examples of neighbors helping. We had countless offers to spend the night when we didn’t have power. My homeschooling buddy across the street made homemade mac-n-cheese for us and let me plug in the coffee in the morning. More than anything, it just made the situation less stressful overall knowing that we had friends to turn to if needed. It’s great how everyone looks out for each other.
Kids actually play in our neighborhood. We’re lucky that there are a lot of families with kids of all different ages. When my kids were toddlers and babies, they would stare out the front window for hours at the neighborhood kids playing basketball in the driveway across the street-even though its owners’ children were long grown and out of the house. That hoop had to come down because it was rotting but the son lives there now and my son just helped him shovel snow. The kids play football and street hockey, basketball and even release. (Remember release?) Parents look out for all the kids. They’re not afraid to discipline or play with each other’s kids and generally, all the kids are respectful and a hoot.
Nearly every Sunday in the summer, one family hosts a “happy hour”. It’s been going strong for 3 years. It’s a nice time to catch up on the week, touch base and have a laugh before the new week. It’s casual, not too fruify and minimal-my kind of party. Munchy, kid drink, one type of beer and the dad host usually comes up with a specialty drink. The specialty drink drives me crazy in my house because it COMPLICATES matters. It’s pretty close to an hour-usually 5-6 and anyone who’s available picks it up for the next week. No schedule, no rules, no invitations, no keeping track-though I suspect somebody keeps a spreadsheet in private. It’s a pretty good system.
If I had to move, I’d quiz potential new neighbors-maybe host a happy hour just to witness the dynamics to see how everyone got along and actually how well they knew one another.
Good neighbors are a treasure and when your lucky enough to have family close by too, it’s priceless!
