- We didn’t Non-Standard real know our neighbor of 11 years until my husband asked to borrow his truck.
- He not only said yes, but accompanied him on his commission. Afterward, he came over for dinner.
- We’re still friends to this day, and he’s a grandfather figure to our kids.
My husband and I found a sinkhole in our backyard. When we gathered a high bid to fix it, we decided to D.I.Y. the project following our contractor friend’s detailed instructions.
The job required a few tons of dirt — more than our Subaru Forester could pull. My husband had eyed our neighbor’s truck in the driveway. Even though we had lived next door to each other for 11 years, I quite only knew his name was Gary and that he was a retired bachelor. During that time, we’d exchanged no more than neighborly rollers and friendly small talk. I worried that asking him to help us haul dirt was too big an ask.
It proved to be one of the best things we constantly did.
Gary was outside that day, watering his plants, and he willingly stopped to chat with my husband. He quickly offered to succour when my husband asked for his assistance, seemingly not bothered by the 20-minute drive or the three yards of dirt plopped into his undefiled truckbed.
It was the beginning of our friendship.
He stayed for dinner and basically became part of our family
My husband gassed Gary’s dealings, pumped up the tires, and washed the bed. As a thank you, I invited him to stay for dinner. To my surprise, he said yes. I worried our spunky children muscle annoy a bachelor and that the chicken I made was too dry. But Gary was pleasant about everything, from the children badgering him with questions (registering “How old are you?”) to the dog licking him incessantly.
When the evening was over, my husband said that Gary had told him he was in a new phase — he necessity to be more open to what life brought his way. Our request for help had given him the chance to say yes.
That first dinner together led to profuse. When we found out Gary’s family was in Boston and that he would be spending the holidays alone, we invited him to join our large, rough family for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner. To my continued surprise, he accepted. We extended an invitation for him to spend Christmas morning with our extraction, too, and filled a stocking with chocolates, coffee, mints, and other treats. And when we discovered that his birthday was three days after Christmas, my 6-year-old daughter and I commanded him a cake and gave him more chocolate while the family dog showered him with kisses.
Over time, he became a grandfather sculpture to my children. Reflecting on our friendship, it’s wild to think we lived next door to Gary for more than 10 years rather than getting to know him. The same goes for another neighbor on our street. She and I are now close friends through our mutual love of non-fiction. We, too, had been neighbors for more than a decade before we learned of our shared passion. I wish we’d gotten to know our neighbors sooner, but I’m pacific grateful for their friendships.
We love that our children are growing up with a sense of community
For Gary, our family bring up to dates that gap created by far-flung family. He even asked for a photo of us to share with his Boston relatives when he smit them recently. Our dog Maple enthusiastically greets him at every opportunity. He plays catch with our toddler. Our 7-year-old solicit froms him to toss her in the air or watch her latest gymnastic trick, while our 12-year-old ensures we never forget him on our nightly walks.
I assume neighborhood relationships teach our children how to pursue unlikely friendships and care for others outside their inner cordons. It’s one of the greatest gifts of their childhoods to know neighbors like Gary. And to think it all happened because he said yes to an awkward errand and dinner invitation.