I live in the most adorable community. I do. It’s sickening to read that for some, I am sure.
Having lived in the crowded and rather dingy city for so many years, it is a pleasure to sit with my neighbors and chi-chat, talk, wax poetic, etc. about nothing in particular but our lives and our futures and our pasts. In the city, it was always about work discussions and what was a great find at Dean and Deluca.
Perhaps it’s not so much about the city vs country per se, however. Perhaps it’s to do with my phase of life right now. I am at peace with my life as a mother and friend. I like opening my door for others so that they may come in and have some coffee with me. I like asking people about themselves.
Life is so busy for everyone but for some reason, my neighbors make me feel as if time has stopped and I am back to where I was when I was eight and not thinking about traffic, war, guns, drugs. It reminds me about sprinklers and barbecues and frisbees. It does.
It took me some time in getting to this peaceful place (figuratively and literally) but it’s quite cool. I used to walk around the grey city, feeling as if I would never be a mom. I would observe so many bad parenting skills outside on the sidewalk, bus and subway. I was so much more astute about my infertility. Here, in my neighborhood, I am still infertile but it’s not as if I am 100% focused on it. I have my daughter and my neighbors and they keep me distracted in such a nice and positive way. I stopped comparing my life to those around me and stopped judging others.
I am so lucky the medical profession helped in to getting where I had only dreamed of going and in getting there, I am so happy to be sitting on a rocking chair, writing to everyone now.
Infertile Beth Katz, neighbor down the street