It takes a village to raise a child.

This phrase is thought to have originated in an African proverb, but it was only brought into the mainstream of American culture a few decades ago, first by Toni Morrison (in a 1981 interview) and then by Hillary Clinton (in her 1996 book using that phrase as the title).

When I got divorced in my mid-50s, I discovered that it also takes a village to “raise” a middle-aged woman. Aging is difficult to accept in the best of circumstances, and even more so if you’re alone. After the divorce I moved to another state more than two hours away from all of my friends and social connections. I realized immediately how important it was going to be for me to make new friends as I entered my solo senior years. And I’m proud that I managed to push myself beyond my introverted comfort zone to make that happen.

I hit the jackpot when I moved to Toledo and ended up with Cynthia and Gary as my next-door neighbors. Cynthia immediately reached out to welcome me and even hosted a small gathering of women from the surrounding houses to help me settle in.

In the nearly 10 years since we became friends, I’ve taken great comfort in having them close by. I’m not sure how to explain it properly, because I wasn’t necessarily afraid to move here by myself; I’m pretty resourceful and good at working out my own problems. But it was such an enormous gift over the years to know that someone next door truly cared about me and would help anytime I needed it.

And now they’re moving far away and I feel extremely unsettled by this turn of events. I knew years ago that they would eventually be leaving but I tried not to dwell on it as we enjoyed each other’s company over the years.

Cynthia and I have regular “wine dates” where we alternate going to each other’s houses and chatting up a storm for a couple hours. We never run out of things to talk about — and we’ve shared so many laughs! Our conversations are fascinating because we’ve we’ve both lived interesting lives and have lots of stories to share. We’ve both lived abroad. We’re avid readers. We’re both gardeners and have an interest in the insect world. Well, I probably geek out over the bugs a bit more than she does (#bugdork 🤓), but just the other day she gave me this cecropia moth that she found lying on my curb. (This is the largest native moth in North America according to iNaturalist, and maple trees are one of its many host species. I’m surprised I’ve never found one here before.)

Cynthia took care of my cat Sophie many times when I traveled, and I’ve watered her plants when they’ve traveled. She’s one of two people who have the code to access my house. I’m really going to miss having that level of trust with someone next door. Gary has pulled my trash and recycling bins up from the curb every week for nearly a decade. And I’m going to miss their beautiful border collie, Katt, as well. I feel such joy every time Katt runs to me and gives me that special kind of love that only dogs can give.

As their departure date comes closer, the sadness is starting to permeate my days, triggered anytime I think about them or glance at their house as I’m coming and going. Their realtor put up the “for sale – coming soon” sign today and I cried again. I’m trying to be very mindful of enjoying every moment we have together, and being grateful for their extraordinary kindnesses. They’re two of the kindest people I’ve ever known.

It’s not all sadness though. I’ve been the lucky beneficiary as they downsize their belongings in preparation for the move. My garden has some added structural pieces now, and just the other day Gary moved this wind sculpture from their garden to mine. I had admired this over the years and was thrilled when they agreed to give it to me. My garden is a very important part of my life already but now it has another level of meaning for me as a connection to my dear friends.

I know our friendship will endure; we’ll keep in touch through letters, emails, and maybe even visits. But I won’t feel the same about my neighborhood when they’re gone. There are a few other neighbors that I’m on friendly terms with, but none are close friends and some are actually pretty annoying. (The types who hoard junk, store extra vehicles in yards, and set off massive fireworks in violation of our city ordinances…ugh.)

My grownup brain understands that change is the only constant in life, but my little girl brain wants to stomp her feet and say “No more change!” I really want to be more optimistic about this next part of my life. And I hope that I can stay open-minded about the new neighbors and welcome them the way that Cynthia and Gary welcomed me. I just pray that they don’t have motorcycles…or kids…or crazy barking dogs! Yes, I know it sounds like I’m a joy to be around, doesn’t it? 🤣  It’s possible that I’m more suited to living in a retirement community because of my noise sensitivities, but I just can’t (yet) get myself to accept the idea of living with only other old people around me. Maybe that will change soon, we’ll see.

If you have good friendships like these, I hope this reminds you to appreciate and nurture them while you can.

Friendship is born at the moment when one person says to another, ‘What? You too? I thought I was the only one.’

Paraphrased from C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves