Neighborly.

My neighbors moved in during the first year of the pandemic.

These new neighbors were newlyweds. Moved up from Texas to be near her mom.

Decades younger than I, but all of us still isolating and dealing with what a pandemic meant then.

I remember one night vividly where she and I sat 15 feet away talking and laughing with wine and love until 2am while my boy slept in his room.

Then she was pregnant. And we wanted to hug her and couldn’t. And we watched as they became new parents. And we shared ice pops and I started my quiche making endeavors.

And time marched on still distant but close. We watched them bring that newborn home. We watched that little girl learn to smile in their arms… from a distance.

Neighbors with those weird different borders and boundaries. Because we couldn’t just rush and hug and be within 6 feet.

Boundaries that once were normal with neighbors became suddenly abnormal and a strange way to make friends.

We waved and smiled and found and fought for privacy with a wire fence sometimes. But most days, we just did the wink and smile and nod of joy and it’s all good. Like every other day.

But not.

While nobody went anywhere unless they had to and then it was inches then miles and a whole lot of why would we ever risk this shit and I’ll wait if you will too.

Right next door.