Have you seen “The ‘Burbs”?  It is hands-down the best “neighbor” movie ever made.  I first saw it in the mid-90s and at that time, I just loved it because it was hilarious.  It wasn’t until decades later in life that I came to realize how much truth was embedded in that movie.  This post is for the neighbors out there that have forged some of the deepest friendships known to man simply because they weren’t afraid to get to know their neighbors.

Here’s the first thing to know about neighbors.  You don’t get to pick them.  Yes, when you house shop you scope out the neighbors as best you can.  You make judgments based on the appearance of the yards, the number of cars parked on the street, how well the house is kept up.  You might judge their outside lighting – is it loud, white, and fluorescent or is it soothing, soft, and yellow (I might be biased)?  You might try to gawk at their bumper stickers – how many stick figures, dogs, cats?  But, this is not really knowing them.  Not at all.  You don’t really get to know them until after you’ve moved in.  And by that point, you own the house.  Nope.  You don’t get to pick your neighbors.

Here’s the second thing to know about neighbors.  Embedded in the very essence of “you don’t get to pick them”, a neighborhood is by default a menagerie of people.  The neighbors have varying personalities, ages, quirks, careers, lifestyles, religions, and opinions.  The chances are super high that you would not have matched with many of them as friends if you were doing a Match.com for friendship.  This can be daunting when you move into a new ‘hood.  We tend to make friends with people who most align with us.  So, when we first move to a new ‘hood, we make brief introductions and small talk and we assess who amongst them is most like us.  Then we decide who we want to get to know better.  And that’s where a lot of neighborhoods begin and end – stick with what you know.  Gravitate to those most like you and leave it at that.  Well, I’ve come to realize that friendships with neighbors can go much deeper than that.

Three years ago, it was a Sunday evening and we had only been living in our new house for about two months. Suddenly, Matt went missing from the garage.  When I last checked on him, he had been doing some work in his garage brewery.  Ten minutes later, he was gone.  If you know Matt, this is not urgent so I just went about my business. 

Within half an hour of his disappearance, our doorbell rang.  I’m an introvert – I don’t answer the phone or the door or the kiosk salespeople at the mall and I also don’t actively search for a missing extroverted husband unless at least two hours have gone by.  Whoever it was would not go away so I reluctantly answered it.  There were two of my new neighbors at the door, whom I had never met, telling me that they had my husband next door.  They said “It’s nice to meet you!  Come over to meet our spouses and have drinks and food!”  I was horrified and probably a little annoyed.  It was Sunday night.  I don’t do things on Sunday nights.  It’s practically Monday on Sunday night.  Preparations need to be made and some routines need to be followed. However, these two ladies I had never met would not take no for an answer.  So, I begrudgingly went.  I’ll spare you the details, but who knew you could have fun on a Sunday night!?   They taught me that.

Fast-forward three years and our gang have grown six couples deep.  We are, in many ways, as different as night and day.  These neighbors have taught me what it truly means to be a part of a diverse community.  Last week I paused to consider what the common thread is that binds us together.  Is it that we live on the same street?  No.  That’s just how we first met.  We have grown so close because we respect each other and all of the ways we are different. We are kind to each other. And that is our common thread.

Here is how different we are.  We have golfers, cricket-players, gardeners, socialites, introverts, early birds and sleeper-inners.  We have neat garages, messy garages and everything in between.  Some of us have a lot of kids and some of us have one.  Some of our kids are bookish and whip-smart and responsible and some of them tend more toward the social, funny, wild side.  Some of us have too many cars (LOL) and some of us have only one for the whole family.  Guess what?  We don’t care about any of that! 

Of the 12 of us, we are Hindu, Muslim, Jewish, and Christian.  My neighbors bring us gifts on Christmas and wish us a Happy Easter.  In turn, we support them through Ramadan and celebrate their New Years’ and their festivals.  Some of us don’t eat certain meats, some of us can’t eat gluten.  Some of us can’t handle spice and some of us buy Thai chiles by the pound.  Some of us drink, some don’t.  Some of us take breaks from drinking and we diet and exercise and go through phases.  We have it all here on Briargrove Way and diversity doesn’t scare us. Here’s the bottom line:  We care about each other and we are never rude to one another.  We never make fun of each other for our diets, preferences, opinions, and idiosyncrasies, no matter how different they may be from the next.  We started with a basic level of respect and that was our foundation for building an amazing neighborhood posse.

And here is why this matters.  Mostly, the past three years have been rainbows and unicorns on Briargrove Way.  We celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, and graduations. We celebrate chess victories, gymnastics medals, business successes, May Day, and the addition of a new hot tub. We celebrate green grass and Costco treasures. But, because statistics are a thing and life doesn’t stay the same forever, I know that many of our families will face some sort of hardship or tragedy or sadness in some coming season.  So far, we’ve only faced hunting for the lost cat or dog (found!) or the sudden need for cooking ingredients or the craziness of quarantine.   But I know a hardship is always a possibility and I also know that when that happens, they will have my back and I will have theirs.  It’s a beautiful thing.

None of us gets left out in our ‘hood.  For any reason.  Would my posse of neighbors go help Ray dig up that dead body in the Klopek’s basement?  Hell yes, we would!  Why?  Because after three short years with these people, we would do just about anything for each other.  And how did we get here?  Because we started off by respecting each other and all of the ways we are different.  I love these neighbors.  They have my heart and have taught me so much more about diversity in community than I ever thought possible.   I owe them so much more than I will ever be able to give back to them. I’m one lucky girl that my friends kidnapped my husband and rang my doorbell three short years ago!