Won't You Be My Neighbor?

In this day and age I think neighbors are underrated. As a society, we tend to pull into our driveways and straight into our garages. We close the garage door and walk into our home. Encounters with neighbors are often polite, unexpected exchanges of simple greetings or small waves. Neighborhoods are not really the small, supportive communities they once were. Neighborhoods reflect the bigger society that revels in modes of communication as more people become isolated and lonely.
We moved into our house seven years ago. At the time it was Lori, Kennedy and I. Our home is under 1400 square feet and now houses 4 kids, 3 chickens, 2 dogs and a rabbit. Everyone shares a room. Every space is used. Every cabinet is filled. Almost every person who enters our home marvels that we live in such a small space as they gently inquire, "Don't you all need more room?". We have thought that often and have spent many hours looking at various houses on the computer and visiting during open houses. We have even gone so far as to set up appointments for houses we were very interested in. Here is the thing...every time we start to move away from this house we get a knot in our stomach. The fact is we are never leaving this house. The reason we are never leaving this house is because it is home. The structure is home. The yard is our sanctuary. The neighbors are our family. Our kids are happy.
When we first started looking at areas the biggest drawback was that this area did not have kids. Our neighborhood was Menopause Manor as one of our elderly neighbors called it prior to the Nodlers arriving. Our neighborhood used to be filled with kids, block parties, a community raising children. To this day, the neighbors talk about all the kids that grew up here as part of their own families. Now it is filled with elderly people who have dogs. The children have moved. The parents are grandparents. We were nervous to move to an area with no young families. No other children. What we did not count on was how much our kids would benefit from elderly neighbors. Neighbors who make homemade popcorn balls at Halloween. Neighbors who refuse to put up fences because they all share yards. Neighbors who park their cars on the street so our kids can play basketball in their driveway. Neighbors who watch our children grow and share their joy with us.
Across the street lives Barb. Barb recovers furniture and her garage is always open as she works. Often I look out and see our kids lined up on their bikes talking with her. Our kids wanted to know when Barb was going to come open presents with us on Christmas morning. Barb shares her garage viewpoint of our children playing and riding bikes. Our kids talk to her differently and she sees things from her garage that gives her a perspective I find funny and helpful. She is part of our village. Watching and caring for our children with us. God only knows what the kids have told her about us. She continues to talk to us though.
Ben is five. We are no longer a family with a baby. The other day Barb was reflecting how she remembers him toddling up and down the street with his push car. She reflected on the kids interactions when Gomah and Kuker first came home. Barb has watched our family grow and change from her garage. She always has little treats for them. They have an open invitation to her pool. She sits on the deck and delights in their antics. The kids delight in a never tiring audience who faithfully watches all their tricks.....over and over and over.
Our kids have lots of adopted grandparents. They think the neighborhood is full of people to play with. Our lives are richer because of our neighbors. I am thankful our garage is too small for us to park in. I am thankful we have neighbors who remember that a neighborhood is a community and go beyond waves and small greetings. I am thankful we have neighbors who have watched our children grow and can share their stories with us.
One of the children who grew up in this neighborhood bought a bigger house close by. He often comes here and visits. One time he stopped by our house (his childhood home) and I was telling the kids he lived in our house when he was little. He was questioning the space to human ratio in the home when Kennedy says, "Isn't this the best place ever to grow up in ?". He looks at me and says, "I guess that is all that matters.".
We still enjoy looking at other houses. We dream about a master bath and home where every voice is not heard. We have fantasies about a kitchen large enough for people to hang out in. How could we leave our neighbors? Damn you connectedness. We are confined to this wonderful, unexpected village. So, unless our neighborhood becomes nomadic, I guess we are staying put.