Therapy Tuesday
Photo by: Julie
In our modern world, so much at times, seems to be lost. It is easy to recall those “bygone days” and wonder how we got to the various points we are experiencing. One such time has recently been called up in my mind. I look at it as the almost-lost art of being neighborly.
One of the big deals with home ownership was having real neighbors. Not ones from our apartment years who would stay until their lease ran out and move on. When we moved into our townhouse, this was something that both my husband and I were so excited about. We moved into a new neighborhood that I would classify as “modern idyllic.” Since it was November when we moved, people weren’t exactly sitting on their front porches waiting to greet us.
Once Spring rolled around, we really started to get to know our new neighbors. We became close friends with some. I was reassured to know that casual friends of my parents lived next door to us. And here is where the art was called into play.
We have two dogs: both hounds, which means that they are vocal animals. The "friends" of my parents had never mentioned to us that the dogs disturbed them. The night after I had my son (so I was indisposed at the hospital nearby), we got one of the rudest messages on our voice mail. In his tiredness, my husband just saw that our neighbor called, and happened to see him outside. He went over to talk to him, thinking that he had called to congratulate us. WRONG. He started to chew my husband out as the dogs barked the night before and ruined his dinner party. David was taken aback, and in attempts to have him help us solve this problem, our neighbor became more combative.
He called the Animal Control on us (who didn't give merit to the claim). He sent anonymous threatening letters (but had told others that he had done so, so we easily found out). We felt really isolated from this community we thought we had joined.
Fast forward to last weekend. The doorbell in our new house rang. David and I looked at one another quizzically as we weren't expecting anyone. Neighbors had come by with a plant (and the promise of banana bread) to introduce themselves. Now THIS is the neighborly behavior that I was hoping for in my last neighborhood. Since moving, I have been included to dinners out with other women in the 'hood, parties, and friendly waves.
A few weeks ago, our area was hit by a big thunderstorm. A tree fell down in our yard, breaking a part of the fence. I had been out, but when I returned, my husband informed me that the neighbor's who lost the tree had already come over, apologized, and offered to remove it as well as fix the fence. Such prompt neighbors!
So what makes good neighbors? Friendliness doesn't hurt. Or tall fences. But I would argue that communication is what can make a neighborhood feel like a community--just like in the old days.
I so agree with you about the importance of good neighbors. We recently moved as well, and were thrilled to discover that our neighbors have kids who like to play in the neighborhood even with kids who aren't exactly their age. We also were welcomed with a batch of cookies. So nice!!
We found that it doesn't hurt to make the first move. Shortly after we moved, we invited our new neighbors over for wine and cheese. At the party, everyone started talking about how great it was to have a chance to chat, and they decided to start quarterly get-togethers that have actually ended up being full potluck dinners and a great way to build community spirit.
And I am so sorry about the rude message on your answering machine. It's just like the beginning of the Road Less Travelled -- I hope that when they realized you'd just given birth they felt ashamed of their bad manners.
Posted by: Katherine | Tuesday, August 03, 2010 at 04:15 PM