I was in my front yard with Lola the pup when I noticed Allie, who lives in the blue house across the street, standing and looking out of her living room window. She is holding tiny Baby Etta, whom she and Drew recently welcomed back in late June, around the same time as my birthday. Despite our significant age differences, we’ve much in common and have become friends. I look forward to getting to know the new arrival.
Allie lifts and waves Etta’s tiny hand in a motion of greeting. I wonder how long we’ll remain neighbors and friends. Allie and Drew choose to live here because our neighborhood is suitably urban and funky, to their liking. Now I’m thinking to myself, what becomes of our relationship when the inevitable day comes where they must choose for Emma the right school or the safest neighborhood? Then, will they flee back to the suburbs, like many other similarly situated young parents have done? And, if they flee, will we remain friends if no longer neighbors?
***
Also, this past week I noticed Veronica, my next-door neighbor for the past seven years, loading her vehicle with boxes, clothing, toys, etc., and her two kids. They depart but return shortly and repeat the process. This goes on for several days. Veronica’s behavior reminds me of the robins living in my backyard, constantly gathering up and transporting string-like blades of grass and tiny twigs to build their nest.
While Veronica and I keep on friendly terms, we are not real friends. Eventually, I inquire and am mildly surprised to hear that she has rented a new apartment, located a mile or two away from the current one, where she plans to move with her kids before a new school year begins.
Mattie and Mickey are still young kids. Veronica tells me that Mickey is starting kindergarten. Already Mickey is revealing her bubbly personality. She talks fast and excitedly in a virtual stream of consciousness, gesticulating with her hands and arms for emphasis. Today, Mickey told me she looks forward to having a private bedroom. Veronica says that after years of sharing a bedroom with Mickey, she’s also glad to be moving into a larger apartment where they can each have their own space.
Mickey’s brother, Mattie, who is twice her age, is severely autistic. Mattie grunts and occasionally utters ear-piercing, high-pitched shrieks, which cause Veronica to keep her windows closed, but is otherwise non-verbal. I find it fascinating that Veronica can understand and translate this strange language. When I imagine Mattie as an older teen or a young adult, I fret.
I used to know the kids’ father. Lee would invent small, odd jobs for him to perform merely as an excuse to hand him a little money in the hope that he’d spend it on the kids. I think he did but couldn’t say for sure because he disappeared from the scene shortly after Mickey was born.
No doubt, Veronica had, and still has, a rougher go than most, but to her credit, I’ve never known her to complain or even raise her voice, at least not since the kids’ father left for good. I will miss seeing Veronica and the children emerge from their basement apartment on their way to the car, sharing our quick hellos, while Mickey (and far less often, her brother) steals quick, furtive glances at Lola, who is standing nearby, vigorously wagging her tail, stick in mouth and ready to play, hoping Lola won’t notice her.
***
Veronica is not the only one on the move. Recently, my friend Amy picked up stakes in the city for greener pastures near a small town several hours from here. I could not say precisely why she decided to move, although I do know her father lives in the general area.
Amy and Lee worked together and developed a deep and lasting friendship. Lee was a tiny woman, Amy a tall one, and when they stood side-by-side I often would refer to the pair as “Mutt and Jeff.”
Since Lee died, Amy and I have become good friends. We make it a point to get together for dinner monthly. August marks the first full month since Amy moved away, but, as far as I am concerned, we’re due to break bread despite the additional travel time and distance involved. I intend to maintain our arrangement—weather and travel conditions permitting, of course!
***
For some months I have had a strong and growing sense that Mont, who has lived under my roof both as my tenant and my friend for almost a quarter of a century, is contemplating a permanent move to Florida where he has family and, quite possibly, better financial prospects. I couldn’t begrudge him if he decided to leave, though Lola and I would be the poorer for it.
***
By nature, I am a gregarious individual. Today, avoiding the solitude life imposes seems more central to my happiness than it once did. I’m not trying to sound morbid, but the reality is that death is looming larger than ever before, and inevitably my circle of close friends and I will suffer attrition.
Already, Lee is gone. A.P., too. I am lonelier without them. And I say this without reservation while simultaneously acknowledging I am in a serious relationship with a wonderful woman, who loves me.
Yet, Robyn’s family is not my family. We both are lucky enough to own lovely homes but because we don’t always reside together, we have no place to call our home.
The truth is, long before we met, Robyn was fully formed as a person. The same goes for me. If the best we can ever achieve is to adapt comfortably, one to the other, then I think we’ve already accomplished this objective. Still, might we attain one life together from two separate lives?
