Neighbors

As we get closer to putting our house on the market (closer in terms of timeframe, not in terms of actual readiness), the reality of leaving is starting to set in.

I'm not one to get sappy or mushy. I avoid showing true emotion at all costs. I don't like to feel vulnerable. But sometimes a person just needs to let it out.

We're really, really sad about leaving our neighbors. We'll miss friends and family, too, of course, but friends and family are never truly gone. Once we move away, our neighbors will never be our neighbors again. Even if we remain friends (and I certainly hope we do), they will never be right next door or just down the street. We can keep in touch via email, but that will never be the same as a wave when we drive by.

I'm not a very social person. I'm shy and I take a while to warm up to people, and I generally like to be left alone. When we first bought this house but hadn't yet moved in, Steve was over here a lot working on improvements. He would report back to me each time he met a new neighbor and would tell me how friendly everyone was. I was a bit underwhelmed, dreading having to socialize with new people.

But Steve was right. Everyone was genuinely friendly. Instead of dreading neighborhood parties, I grew to crave them. I love trips to the mailbox that turn into hour-long conversations. I love answering the door to find a plate of brownies awaiting me. I love the good-natured ribbing and the genuine inquiries into our well being.

Everyone has been so incredibly supportive and generous. When Steve was gone for days or weeks at a time fighting wildfires, neighbors came by with food for me. When Anna was a newborn, neighbors would take our trash cans out to the street and bring them back in if Steve wasn't home. Steve and our next-door neighbor Brent spent months toiling over a gorgeous playhouse for our kids.

(As an aside, that playhouse is probably the physical structure I most dread leaving. I have begged Steve to find a way to dismantle it and put it into storage, but he says it can't be done; it's built better than our house is.)

Before Anna was born, we had an opportunity to possibly buy a house from a friend who lived a few blocks away. The house was much larger than our current one. With a baby on the way, we felt we really needed the extra room (which seems a bit ironic now), and we probably could have gotten a great deal.

We didn't pursue it, though, because we didn't want to leave our neighbors. Even a few blocks away would be too far. We had heard too many horror stories of terrible neighbors and we didn't want to risk what we might find elsewhere. So we decided to stay put and make the best of our little house.

Now, of course, we're getting ready to move into an even smaller house, and we'll have new neighbors all the time. Some will probably be great. Some will be awful. None will be the ones we have now.

I certainly hope we can stay in touch with them, and hopefully we'll be able to visit during a block party. Maybe we can drop by after Thanksgiving to help decorate houses for Christmas. Maybe some flamingoes will mysteriously make their way onto some lawns when people least expect it. Who knows.

What I do know is that whoever buys our house will be incredibly lucky. They'll inherit an amazing playhouse and the best bunch of neighbors in the world.