I'm writing to tell you why our block rocks ....Being a neighbor is a fantastic thing. But what constitutes a neighbor these days? Is it just a familiar face with a similar address? In these times, the word neighbor is too often replaced with "lives on my street....I think..". On our street, being a neighbor is a choice. The seasoned mother that cooks an extra meal for the new tired parents is a neighbor. The young man that shovels the yards of those who can't is a neighbor. The mom that cuddles a crying child that is not hers is a neighbor. I am proud to say I live in a neighborhood. We live in a web of houses, connected with relationships. We live in a circle of friends, with shared experiences that join us together. The friendships we have forged with our neighbors surpass race, age, religion, and financial status. We celebrate the good fortune of our neighbors, while sympathizing with the hardships.
A birth, a death, an injury. An award, a union, a raise. While some on our street are now spoiling grandchildren, there are tired parents just beginning their journey. Advice is always plentiful, as is a shoulder to burp on, a swing set to play on, or an extra band-aid to be stuck...Some celebrating their silver anniversaries watch as others are busily planning their showers...The seasons do not hinder our relationships, they only foster creativity-the summer brings cookouts, street parties, and the ever popular (and addicting) corn hole, the cooler months bring marathon poker sessions and fire pits..Whatever the season, there is always a watchful eye, a cup of sugar, or an extra set of hands to rake or shovel with.