neighbors

Let me explain the above photo. It is 8am and this is Max on his way to the bus stop with our neighbor Sammy, whose Mom stops by our house every morning and picks him up. What it doesn't show is that I am probably still in my pj's with one or both girls still sleeping in bed (and now the baby) and that I'm not forced to drag any of them out of bed/house in order to take Max to the bus myself. And for me, this is huge--especially when the temperature is in the teens. Then, in the afternoon, if I don't show up at the bus stop myself (because, again, I have a sleeping baby or maybe because my toenail polish is still drying), she'll bring him home for me. Have I mentioned before how much I love my neighbors? If not, then it's long overdue.

This weekend marks the 4-year anniversary of our moving into this house. I'll admit, there have been plenty of hard and stressful things about our house specifically, and trust me, I've complained plenty. Nevertheless, with each year I'm increasingly convinced that we were divinely led to be here, with one of the biggest blessings being our neighbors.

How do I put this....I love my ward community. A lot. And having a strong ward/church community is really, really important to me, especially as a parent. But I have also found that it is easy to become socially insulated within a ward, so Adam and I long ago decided that we would always work to also build and nuture a community that was outside of our church interactions. Our neighbors made that easy because we moved not just to Delaware, but to the 1950s.

Really.

It's the kind of neighborhood that when you drive through it, anyone out working on their yard or walking their dog on the street will wave to you (that really freaked me out in the beginning--I don't know you, why are you waving at me!). Most of the moms are still stay-at-home-moms; most of the families are still two-parent-families; the moms will hang at the bus stop to chat in the afternoon; the kids run through the surrounding yards to get to eachother's houses (as there are no fences separating everyone's property); there's candlelight caroling at the covered bridge at Christmas time (yes, there's also a covered bridge in the neighborhood!); Halloween is an all-out block party; when babies are born, people show up with dinners and gifts and offers of babysitting; and do I have to say any more about the Pool Club! Ultimately, we find ourselves living in a little slice of surburban paradise.

Tonight we hosted a small neighborhood open house to say goodbye to our immediate nextdoor neighbors, Jeanne and Andy, a super sweet elderly couple who are this month moving to a retirement community. They are original to the neighborhood, and in fact, our street, Abbey Road, is named after Andy's first (late) wife, Abigail--the street existed before the Beatles Album, afterall. They are part of what made me feel like we lived in a kind of time-warp, and it's not just because their immaculately kept house is still furnished the way it was when they built it in 1956. It's because they pass out apples on Halloween; they are generous with sharing eggs or vanilla or nutmeg when I come up short; Jeanne makes me homemade scrubbing pads from the mesh bag that onions are packaged in; they bring us leftover desserts after having hosted their church group; they invite Adam for dinner if I am out of town with the kids; Jeanne occasionally comes over for a chat and bringing some handiwork, she with her knitting, I with my unfolded laundry; Andy brings us flowers from his greenhouse (have you ever smelled a night blooming cereus flower--intoxicating!); and they collect little items from around their house, like toothpicks and corks, that they think the kids would want to use for art projects. They are so kind and gentle to our kids. I'll miss them dearly.

Jeanne now tells me that she's praying for us--praying that the new neighbors will work out and be good replacements.

Oh, so am I.