Full Circle In The Cul-De-Sac

Several months ago, I wrote about our elderly neighbors who shared an adjacent driveway with us for almost 30 years. When we moved in way back when, we were the young family whose chaotic energy overtook our shared space. Neighborhood kick ball games, sidewalk chalk art displays, and flying crab apples that often trespassed onto the older couple’s lawn dominated summer nights.. Non-stop exuberance coming from our side of the driveway was, shall we say, met with aloof detachment. Throughout our 30 year tenure of social distancing (before it became a thing), the energy coming from next door was, quite frankly, nil.

In the last years of our elderly neighbors’ lives, my husband and I inserted ourselves a bit more into their isolation. We learned about their stories, we understood their comfort in being by themselves, and we held their hands as they lay in their Hospice hospital beds in the middle of their living room. Over 29 years of distance vanished. They passed within weeks of one another which gave me a deeper glimpse into their love story. I was reminded it’s never too late to cultivate tenderness and compassion.

Things have changed in the “hood.” We have some new kids on the block, literally. A young family moved in to the once quiet house next door. Bustling with energy, our new neighbors are a young couple with two little boys who embody engaging charm and vigor. In no time, they’ve made our shared cul-de-sac home. The sounds outside my kitchen window are buoyant with energy as scooters are mastered and toddler race cars exceed lightning-like speed limits. The delight is infectious. Conversations about pre-school pajama days and grass scooting caterpillars can lure the most levelheaded adult into little boy magic.

It dawned on me how much the roles have reversed for my husband and I. Full disclosure, I’ll never be old (I prefer young at heart), but it’s true that we are 30 years older than we were when we moved in to our home. Now, our place in the neighborhood has come full circle. Our kids, once small, now have families of their own. Our garage is no longer cluttered with bikes and soccer nets, although sometimes our grandkids pull out the dusty wagons and the miniature bubble blowing lawnmower. However, as much as I thrive on visits from my children and their children, the fact is we are now the (dare I say) older couple who lives next door. How did that happen?

Watching the transformation of the house next door from old to new leaves me with pause. The season of insular quiet and isolation was a long one. Looking at a closed garage door for almost 30 years creates a vibe of aloneness and seclusion. As our family stretched and grew and struggled and sprouted, the couple next door’s aura remained closed. However, now we find ourselves at a pivot point. Now, we are surrounded by a whole new energy defined by others’ children. The house of quiet has been transformed. I have to say, I love it. Our young neighbors are bringing renewal reaching far beyond repainted walls and a new dishwasher.

Hearing the burst of toddlers seizing a new day is infectious. I realize the they key to being present to life is to never become the old person next door. I think about my new little friends and realize the best way I know how to remain accessible and open is to be willing to join the cul-de-sac fun at all times and to make sure the garage door stays open.