Neighborly Obligations

We got a call last night from our new-ish next door neighbor. Her husband had a terrible accident on a tractor last Thursday and is in the hospital with a crushed shoulder and a badly injured hip. They're an older couple with grandchildren, and they've been awfully nice to us since they've moved in. Lucy and Charlie, thankful that the dogs belonging to the previous tenants are now gone, have taken it upon themselves to welcome our neighbors with what can only be described as the "Feline Welcome Wagon." The first week, Lucy planted herself smack dab in the middle of their carport, refusing to move when they drove up the driveway. A few weeks later, I saw her sprawled out on their patio, napping in the sunshine under their patio table. Recently I've learned that Charlie likes to walk on their roof, mainly in the morning, and that if they listen very carefully, they'll hear the pitter-patter of little cat feet before the alarm goes off. As a cat parent, I'm a little ashamed of my parenting abilities. I can't keep them from roaming the neighborhood, but at least they're friendly enough to make themselves at home. In someone else's yard.

Now it's my turn to get to know the neighbors' house. I offered to help with what I could during their hospital stay out of town, and she took me up on my offer. I thought for sure I'd just need to pick up the newspapers and the mail, maybe water some plants. Turns out that, in fact, I do need to do those things. I also need to check that the timers work on their lights, clean out their refrigerator and check the dates on things like milk and lettuce. I also need to call their church, their housekeeper and the other neighbors to let them know what's going on.

All of this is not to say that I begrudge my neighborly duties. It is to say, though, that times have changed. In my neighbors' day, they could (and still can) rely on their friends to help them out in times of need. For my generation, we're more of a "call me if you need me" kind of bunch. Send out a mass email to tell people that your dad's been sick. Post a MySpace bulletin to ask your local friends to stop by the house for a visit. Text your co-workers about a death in your family. Are we losing sight of the personal-ness of being personal friends?

I'm glad that my neighbor thought to call me when this accident happened, and Brian and I are both flattered that she trusts us with taking care of her home and her responsibilities while she's away taking care of her husband. It's a new concept for us, though. Neighbors who really are...neighbors. Wow.