Two years ago, after our long time elderly neighbors passed away, we were fortunate enough to have gained some awesome across-the-street-neighbors. Then today they shared they're expecting another child and putting the house up for sale. To be honest, it's probably a good time for them to sell. Real estate seems to continue to move, unlike most of the rest of the world.
But, instead of being happy and excited for them, I'm left feeling bereft. Because, unbeknownst to me, my brain was already anticipating being able to witness and enjoy the growing up, the milestones, the joys--yes, from across the street, NOT in their pockets.
And how utterly ridiculous is that? And even more ridiculous? My eyes may be leaking, as I type this. Blaming the damp keyboard on the pandemic . . . in my feeble opinion, we can blame much on this moment.
By the way . . . do YOU want to be my neighbor? Love, K (hand me a tissue, please)
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