Saying “Goodbye” to the Neighbors
The moving truck came a few days ago to pick up all their furniture and carry it off to Vermont, to a small town about two hours away. A week or two earlier, Barbara and I had invited Steve and Mary over to our house for one final meal together and to formally say “Goodbye” to our neighbors, neighbors who had, in fact, become good friends during our thirty-plus years together. I miss them already.
When Barbara and I moved into this suburban community in upstate New York, we brought our two girls: ages seven and five. Steve and Mary lived two doors away with their first and only son, age two. Through the years, they added three daughters, two of whom were twins. Thus, even though our children did not go through school together, our families did share some basic experiences.
For example, our two daughters babysat for their kids periodically and fed their pet bunny when their family went on vacation. Naturally, too, their family came to our yard for high-school graduation parties, and we did the same when their children achieved that same academic milestone. Also, Steve recently invited us to their home for dinner one night because he was excited to show off his newly purchased pizza oven. What a fun treat.
