;)
Saturday
Aug082009
Who Are The People In Your Neighborhood?
Saturday, August 8, 2009 at 10:43PM
I am a cursed woman. I've lost every cell phone I've ever owned, all of my cars acquire some weird, inexplicable and totally unfixable problem, like, oh, having no brakes at all ever even though there are perfectly good brand new brakes on it. That happened twice, come to think of it. Or the turbo blowing up in mid-Pennsylvania when I was *this* close to the cheesesteak I'd driven two days to hunt down and eat. I've owned three computers and two of them have fallen victim to a hit and run, high speed hard drive crash. The bank machine never works for me, neither does the credit card swiper thingie at the store. The systems are always down when I'm on the phone with whichever "system" I need to be that day.
It would seem that I am a walking electromagnetic pulse that destroys technology in my wake, which would only come in handy on the Nebuchadnezzar, which I'm not, I hope, and we're not even going to begin to talk about the hamsters. Oh, the hamsters.
The hamsters aren't really all that much a surprise, though. I have an unusually disproportionate amount of houses firmly lodged in Death, which explains why I've lost count of the number of close friends and relatives I've given back to this earth in my short 34 years. You know, if you believe in that sort of thing. Which I sometimes think I just might.
Where my terrible luck balances itself out in my life, as all things must, is in my location. More specifically, my knack for picking the exactly rightly perfect place to live at any given time in my life. My first real neighbor in my first real big-girl residence? Aimee Greeblemonkey. Yeah, that did NOT suck. I loved my neighbors after that, too. Then I moved my trying-to-be-ex husband into an apartment building that I just had a really good feel about, and a few months after I stopped letting him try to be my ex husband, the kids godfather moved in. He wasn't the kids godfather then, but oh is he ever now, like it or not. Hot Gay Russell was the guy that lived next door to Hot Young Chris and we're still all one big happy Melrose Place family to this day, just that now they've started catching up with me and getting families of their own. Copycats.
When my daughter moved into my abdominal cavity and we moved into a bigger house, we lived next door to and across the street from the best two neighbors a girl could ever ask for. Not kidding. I didn't ever think I could top that street, those people, that circle of friends. And then I moved to Canada.
She was the first neighbor on the street to come say hello, and her kids were the first to extend the offer of play to mine. She was the first person to ask about me, about us, and wait for an answer. She was the first person to explain The Way Things Are here, and help me adjust to the fact that my kids could just go, and they'd be fine. When our Very Bad Awful night happened and I opened to door to let the police out, the only face I actually saw in the mob of neighbors crammed on my doorstep was hers. The only mouth I saw was hers, and the only words I heard were hers, "If you need me, I'm here."
That's all she said. A year and a half later, I saw her again. I moved back to this old house, this pocket of suburban Canada, and she's been my best friend since. Our families are unforgivably mixed up in each other now. She lends me indian spices to rub on my Christmas ham, and doesn't judge me too harshly for it. We spend our holidays together, our kids spend their weekends together, we whittle away our evening hours on the curb out front with mugs of tea and spice cake and hushed giggles that I didn't know grown women shared. She teaches me The Qur'an and tae kwon do and why CSI is so much better than CSI Miami, we debate over who the hottest guy on our street is, we compare notes on our childbirths and childhoods. She is my son's teacher and the first teacher ever to try to help me with him, not just send me home with a laundry list of character flaws. My daughter calls her Momma, and it doesn't bother me in the slightest. Her children call me Auntie, and I consider it an honor.
I swore I wasn't going to get too attached to anyone here. I still am not fully recovered from the loss of what I had to tear out and leave behind in Denver to come here, and there was no way I was going to share that gaping space in the core of my being with anyone else. And then I met her, and her family, and the whole community I tripped and fell into when the house I actually wanted to move into got rented to someone else and I had to settle, and that's when the hole in my heart started to close.
And yesterday a moving van came and took her, her couch, her tea cups, her spice racks, her children and her husband away. Because the thing with having all your cards stacked in Scorpio, which is where Death sits waiting, is that even if you don't lose them forever, you always lose them eventually. That's the way it goes with these things. And today, I don't even want to walk out my front door.
It would seem that I am a walking electromagnetic pulse that destroys technology in my wake, which would only come in handy on the Nebuchadnezzar, which I'm not, I hope, and we're not even going to begin to talk about the hamsters. Oh, the hamsters.
The hamsters aren't really all that much a surprise, though. I have an unusually disproportionate amount of houses firmly lodged in Death, which explains why I've lost count of the number of close friends and relatives I've given back to this earth in my short 34 years. You know, if you believe in that sort of thing. Which I sometimes think I just might.
Where my terrible luck balances itself out in my life, as all things must, is in my location. More specifically, my knack for picking the exactly rightly perfect place to live at any given time in my life. My first real neighbor in my first real big-girl residence? Aimee Greeblemonkey. Yeah, that did NOT suck. I loved my neighbors after that, too. Then I moved my trying-to-be-ex husband into an apartment building that I just had a really good feel about, and a few months after I stopped letting him try to be my ex husband, the kids godfather moved in. He wasn't the kids godfather then, but oh is he ever now, like it or not. Hot Gay Russell was the guy that lived next door to Hot Young Chris and we're still all one big happy Melrose Place family to this day, just that now they've started catching up with me and getting families of their own. Copycats.
When my daughter moved into my abdominal cavity and we moved into a bigger house, we lived next door to and across the street from the best two neighbors a girl could ever ask for. Not kidding. I didn't ever think I could top that street, those people, that circle of friends. And then I moved to Canada.
She was the first neighbor on the street to come say hello, and her kids were the first to extend the offer of play to mine. She was the first person to ask about me, about us, and wait for an answer. She was the first person to explain The Way Things Are here, and help me adjust to the fact that my kids could just go, and they'd be fine. When our Very Bad Awful night happened and I opened to door to let the police out, the only face I actually saw in the mob of neighbors crammed on my doorstep was hers. The only mouth I saw was hers, and the only words I heard were hers, "If you need me, I'm here."
That's all she said. A year and a half later, I saw her again. I moved back to this old house, this pocket of suburban Canada, and she's been my best friend since. Our families are unforgivably mixed up in each other now. She lends me indian spices to rub on my Christmas ham, and doesn't judge me too harshly for it. We spend our holidays together, our kids spend their weekends together, we whittle away our evening hours on the curb out front with mugs of tea and spice cake and hushed giggles that I didn't know grown women shared. She teaches me The Qur'an and tae kwon do and why CSI is so much better than CSI Miami, we debate over who the hottest guy on our street is, we compare notes on our childbirths and childhoods. She is my son's teacher and the first teacher ever to try to help me with him, not just send me home with a laundry list of character flaws. My daughter calls her Momma, and it doesn't bother me in the slightest. Her children call me Auntie, and I consider it an honor.
I swore I wasn't going to get too attached to anyone here. I still am not fully recovered from the loss of what I had to tear out and leave behind in Denver to come here, and there was no way I was going to share that gaping space in the core of my being with anyone else. And then I met her, and her family, and the whole community I tripped and fell into when the house I actually wanted to move into got rented to someone else and I had to settle, and that's when the hole in my heart started to close.
And yesterday a moving van came and took her, her couch, her tea cups, her spice racks, her children and her husband away. Because the thing with having all your cards stacked in Scorpio, which is where Death sits waiting, is that even if you don't lose them forever, you always lose them eventually. That's the way it goes with these things. And today, I don't even want to walk out my front door.
Reader Comments (52)
I think you are a solid citizen and I wish I had a neighbor or friend like you. Sorry you are losing a good pal.
oh my.
Aww honey. I'm so sorry. Sending you hugs.
I'm sorry, dood. You know if I could afford it, and had a car, and was legally entitled to drive, I would SO move to your street, eh? It just ... like a home.
it sucka sucka sucka's when you lose a friend like this. I've lost 2 in my lifetime, and I will never lose the feeling of loss. It just never goes away. I hope I find them again, if not here, then in the next.
Beautiful pictures. Your neighborhood looks like the one I have in my dream where I have lots and lots of girlfriends with kids my kids ages, and we all hang. You are living my dream. And--? I"m jealous.
Love,
Julie
I'm sorry you're losing a friend. That shit sucks and always has.
On the other hand, when Scorpio isn't shoving you into existential crises and funarels, it is rebirth incarnate. Most of the time I'm ok with that, but sometimes it gets lonely to be left standing in the ashes of blasted fields.
Anyway. I hear you.
Oh man, that just totally sucks - she sounds like a wonderful friend. I don't know what else to say so I'll just sit here and pout on your behalf.
UGH. I hate when people move. Me, someone else, it just doesn't matter, it sucks. However, you are SO obviously not a person who really loses people. They stay in your heart and in your life whether they are next door or hundreds of miles away. It will not be the same, that is for sure. But you aren't losing her completely.
Gah. I'm sorry. These things suck donkey balls. Stay in touch with her and I know you'll keep her in your heart.
And if you need, I'm an email away.
I am so sorry for your loss. It's so hard, I think, for women to grow friendships like that, that when you do and then lose that bond (moving), it is like a death.
{{hugs}}
I'm sorry, it really sucks when friends move and the fact that your whole family is losing some really special people only makes it worse.
((hugs))
I'm so sorry. So, so sorry.
(And I totally believe in astrology, too, most of the time.)
I'm so so sorry.
My BFF moved an hour away after being just 5 min away for years. I hope you guys can still get together even if it's just for an occasional afternoon.
I understand what it means to not want to be close to someone for fear of losing them eventually and I'm sorry to hear that your bestie is moving. Close friendships don't lose their ties your bound together by mutual love and respect for each other.
I'm going to print this out and show it to my wife, saying, "This is why I don't like to talk to our neighbours."
(And lest you think I'm kidding, I am not.)
I am sorry for your loss. That sucks big time.
When hubby and I bought our first house - we left a wonderful close-knit neighborhood on the edge of insanity (downtown crack-ho neighborhood)- but the 4 of us couples banded together and had a great time. For many years.
Then we moved into a new neighborhood, and slowly slowly it has become even more wonderful as our kids play together and we BBQ at each others houses and even do GNO once in a while. Your post made me sad, and reminded me that the wonderfulness is usually temporary. 6 months, 6 years, maybe longer, but still only temporary.
Thank you for your sweet post.
That's sucks. Plain & simple.
I'm sorry.
So how far away did she go? Too far to sit on the curb, drink tea and watch the kids play without prior planning I would presume...
I have a theory about friends such as these. They come to you when you really need them, and they leave just when you are comfortable with having them around.
Honestly, I believe they are angels. My life has been full of them. Some of them are ever-present guardian type angels that realize I am just stumbling and fumbling most of the time and others are sent in periodically when the starters need a few minutes of recovery on the bench.
It's been interesting to watch them appear through the blog or because of the blog or because the blog and real life somehow overlap in real life and *poof* there's another angel.
On some level (heart on my sleeve or deep seated) I hope that I too exist on that angelic plane for the people that come in and out of my life.
Sometimes I wonder...but I think I must. We all must. Otherwise what's the point?
Oh, honey, I'm sorry. Sorry sorry sorry.
The closest thing I've ever had to a sister is six hours from me now and I feel like I completely deserted her.
It sucks so incredibly bad, sorry dear.
I know that story better than I want to. You can never have too many good friends, but it sucks when they leave.
that s heartbreaking ...my sympathies. Thats a beautiful photo collage .
Aww hon. I'm sorry. Where did she go? and.... I have to tell you, you freaked the HELL out of me - I thought you guys were leaving. and that would suck. as much as S. moving sucks.
Blah! I was fine and nodding my head up until the last paragraph where the air sort of escaped out of me and that whole "im gonna burst into frantic tears" feeling came over and I am soo sooo sad for you. I hate that this happened. Because I can relate to those emotions you are going through; that desperate feeling of loss and having no control over this and how could she??? =)
You are blessed to have experienced such an amazing friendship that originated from a mere geographical convenience.
Oh, honey.
I have tears in my eyes for you.
Big, fat, possibly not in my eyes anymore tears in my eyes for you.
:-(
Just remember that only geography changes. Friendship is a constant.
Unless, of course, she moved away to get away from you, which somehow I doubt :).
You are blessed to be making so many fabulous friends in your life. They can move out of your neighborhood but not out of your heart.
I can't imagine how hard this is for all of you, because you even managed to make ME cry and I know even know them! Jerk. ;)
I'm with SciFi Dad: further proof that being an antisocial bastard is a good thing.
*sniffle* You made me cry. I almost NEVER cry. At all. *sniff*
And if I am crying, I am assuming that you are crying, too.
I am so sorry she is moving away. It hurts to have friends that are your chosen family move away...
Man, that sucks. You are so blessed to have had her in your life, though. I'm a little envious.
Oh man. That post made me sad. We all want a neighbor like that. A real friend. A soulmate of a chick as a NEIGHBOR. So friggin' rare. But I agree with Schmutzie up there - you are so blessed to have had her in your daily life ...
I am so sorry, sweetie. :( I've been sitting here quietly reading and enjoying post after post and this one truly breaks my heart.
And now, twenty minutes later, I still can't put together the words to make you feel better about your loss. :(
If I prayed, you would most certainly be in them.
as hard as it is to lose them...at least you had them for awhile...so in my book, you are one lucky lady!
We've been blessed with great neighbors too and I know what it's like to lose good ones especially after living beside the not-so-good ones. If the new neighbors don't work out you let me know and I'll take care of it. I don't save my son's diapers for nothing.
I would do a jig naked on Main Street if my neighbors moved, I can't stand them that much. Still, I wish I had neighbors like yours, even if the bitch IS moving. And I am sorry.
Some people come into our lives, and quickly leave.
Some people come into our lives and we let them into our hearts, and they walk around and leave.
SOME PEOPLE COME INTO OUR LIVES, AND WE LET THEM INTO OUR HEARTS, OUR HOMES AND OUR LIVES, AND THEY WALK AROUND AND MAKE THEMSELVES AT HOME... AND EVENTUALLY HAVE TO LEAVE... and they leave footprints on our heart.
Thank GOD you had her for so long...
If only there was some way that you could keep in touch with them by using electrons in the air . . .
:)
The benefit of the small world that we live in is that nobody's more than a few hours away.
That's just terrible. My best friend moved away a couple of weeks ago, too, and it is too awful.
Oh honey... I'm sorry. Losing a friend that special SUCKS. And it's never the same when you're far apart. My best friends all ditched me for the Southern states. A fact that I will never forgive them for because I don't do heat or "dry counties."
I'm sorry. {hug}
Maybe even more fabulous neighbours will move in, rich ones that you will bond with and they will take you on vacations around the globe! Sigh.
I live in the ghetto, where domestic disturbances are routine and children taunt me on my way home from work.
They sound like incredible friends, I'm so sorry that they moved. I hope they are staying close where you can visit them. ::hugs::
I know how that feels. But I think it's worth it to keep adding to that arsenal of people who you can always rely on. No matter where they are. It took me a really long time to feel that way though. And a lot of alcohol. <3
oh, i hate that, that sucks totally. i can so relate to that. isn't this always the reality. just when you think you are finding your niche and making comfy friends, someone leaves.
i'm tired of making friend after friend and right now have sort of given up. just enjoying my own company. good friends are hard to come by. i never stuck around long enough to make lasting relationships. here's to your new neighbors, i hope they're spicy, ha.
Harsh!
So sorry to hear your friend is moving. It's always so hard to lose those we genuinely care about.
oh babe, I am so sorry. Having to say goodbye to friends sucks. It's hard to find someone you can relate to, someone you trust and share things with and feel comfortable with, and then have to let them go. I wish I could offer words of comfort - unfortunately since I'm going through a similar thing, I'm not quite there yet. The best I can do is send hugs. Huge, tight, strangle-like hugs. Then maybe the need to breath will make you forget the heartbreak a little bit.
Hey sweets - sorry to hear about your friend and her family moving. I completely understand, but I think it's because I'm usually the one moving away. Thank god for the internerds, or I would probably go nutty trying to keep up with friends who are far away. :)
Well. That fuckin' sucks. I'd fly to Canada to get drunk with you except A: We're total strangers, B: I'm like, 25 weeks pregnant and C: I don't know if they let drunk, pregnant strangers off the plane without some hassle, and I'm not up for another cavity search.
Did she move very far away? Because that really does suck.
I feel your pain. We're in the Foreign Service, so every 2-3 years we up and move, leaving behind all sorts of friends. And every single summer the moving trucks pull in and dismantle the neighborhood. It's hard. I have friends everywhere now, to be sure, but the constant leave-taking gets wearisome.
You can always look at it like this:
It will make going on a vacation to visit her that much better. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" doesn't just apply to lovers.
All I can do is stick out my bottom lip and furrow my brow...and pout with you. :-(