Would You Be Mine?

4 05 2011

It’s neighbor-time – that time of year when it seems that everyone is mowing grass, trimming hedges, painting shutters, training dogs, teaching kids to ride two-wheelers – you know, spring stuff.

In springs past, I am sure I felt some lack of neighborliness.  I felt less than adequate as a turf grass manager (there are two lawns in my neighborhood that appear to be maintained by the ground crew from Pebble Beach.)  I have snatched the hedge trimmers from the hands of a shrub-mangling neighbor. The paint color of someone’s exterior décor was disappointing (because I was going to use that color.)  Dogs barked too late at night or too early in the morning.  Kids made bike tracks across my freshly mulched landscape beds. 

Now, this seems (is) very petty and judgmental, but I know I am not the only person to have these thoughts; although I may be the only one foolish to admit them.  I am telling you this, not to get you to say, “Me, too.  Neighbors can be such a pain.”  I am telling you this because being part of a neighborhood means that, in exchange for not getting your own way about everything, you don’t have to make your way alone.

I am incredibly fortunate to have neighbors who cut my grass last year when I lost my daughter Jessica, neighbors who humor my rabid gardener persona by asking my advice with their shrubbery, who keep their homes in fine repair (and SEAL-6 has done no home repair and trash removal here), whose dogs are friendly and gentle, and whose children were always kind to my special child.

As I do my own “spring stuff” this year, I am grateful for my neighbors, out doing theirs – not the way I would do it, of course.

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