When it came time to find a new place to live after my divorce, I was so anxious to find the right home. While looking at a new house, out the front door of the very immediate next door home walked out a former team member of mine from years ago. A familiar face! And even better, I had stayed in touch with his wife, Mary.
I ran across the yard, bubbling with excitement and immense relief that I could have a friend as a neighbor.
I moved in a month later and that was two years ago.
I am delighted every single day to have a family of friends next door.
Mary and her husband Clint have three boys; the two oldest are my girls’ ages. The children wave and yell to each other coming and going to school throughout the year. They talk to each other through the fence boards and throw balls back over to the appropriate yard on the regular.
There is a comforting level of familiarity between the two homes.
Mary’s boys know just where the snacks are stored in my kitchen, and we care for each other’s pets when the other is out of town.
It feels at times as though we are living in a 1960’s utopia.
I never realized how wonderful it is to text a friend asking for an egg or a cup of sugar. Literally! We send our children over to pick up some extra sheets of aluminum foil, reminding them to say “thank you,” knowing how grown up they feel taking over this important errand.
We are also there for each other in times of need. I have had Clint come over when I heard a noise or needed a lizard to be retrieved. One night, my front door had frantic knocking, with a visibly shaken Mary holding her one year old. He had rolled off his changing table and with her husband out of town, she ran over to me without thinking.
It is so special, having someone literally right next door to look forward to seeing daily, to count on.
When Mary and her husband were on my team, they were still just dating, part of my Disney College Recruiting student team. Those were especially magical memories. And Mary isn’t just my neighbor, she’s also a NOLA Moms Blog Contributor. I may not always live next door to Mary and her family. But I treasure every single day, taking so much joy in seeing her minivan in the driveway, texting “oh my gosh, could you hear my kid’s tantrum last night?”,and borrowing that one crucial ingredient.