So I’m attempting another one of The Daily Post’s Blogging University courses and this time we’re focusing on writing. It’s Writing 101: Building a blogging habit. The first assignment was to write a sort of stream of consciousness post for 20 minutes. This seems really odd to me and my story seems to meander a little bit but here’s my effort.
A post about my neighborhood.
In three months I will have lived in my neighborhood for 17 years. My dad was telling me that most people, at least those in their late 20s and early 30s, only stay in a house they’re buying for about six to seven years, then upgrade and that trend stalls or stops around age 60 or so.
I am closer to sixty than I am 30 and although Mrs aBoyNamedSue and I have plans to move, that won’t be for at least two to three years… that’s if we’re lucky. I will have lived in this house for 20 years.
I’ve seen a lot of folks come and go but there have only been a handful of my neighbors that I’ve really gotten to know. A few years ago, the family right n
ext door to me was foreclosed on. They had been there about six years but one bad circumstance and a family that is living paycheck to paycheck finds themselves looking for a new place. There but for the Grace of God, right.
Another neighbor of mine just moved out yesterday. And like for that other family, I was there to help her move some of her stuff. For her though, it wasn’t a single thing that has her moving out but a series of events that have landed solid body blows over the period of about a year or so. She and her husband live in separate homes about five miles apart. It had been a deliberate choice in an effort to save their marriage. He drank… a lot and wasn’t one of those fun-Bobby type of drunks either. He was kind of an asshole. Their marriage was at the edge and at the time they had hired me to do some handyman work around both of their homes. It was weird because I was hearing both sides. As I talked to them I almost felt like a bartender or hairdresser as I dispensed non-biased, objective insights trying not to tip the hand of the other and not trying to drive them further apart.
Their marriage eventually began to heal. He stopped drinking and I can’t help but think that part of it was because of my amateur therapy I dispensed.
Shortly after he got sober, his body was going through a hard time although mentally he seemed to be fine being clean. He actually had to go the hospital for a short while because of a reaction his liver had to a small overdose of Vitamin A i think it was. After that my neighbor (the wife) lost her job and I think the stress of all that had happened before got the best of her and she had a bit of breakdown. It was pretty terrible. She noticeably different and was a shell of the strong, vibrant mid-40s woman that she was.
As she was going through that her husband had oral surgery. He was in a fair amount of pain and so he took some pain pills but because he is about six feet tall and weighs… I don’t know, about 260 maybe?…. yeah, he’s a big boy. He decided that the dose on the bottle probably needed to be upped so he took three times what he should have.
Another trip to the hospital. My man almost died. I mean he was so close to walking through death’s door, I think the only thing holding him back was a belt loop that got caught on the doorknob.
He made it through though despite fighting a bout of pneumonia, going septic, the doc thinking they were going to have to take out both kidneys and have a tracheotomy done. Crazy, huh.
So with him out of commission and her out of a job, savings spilling and bills coming due, she had to climb out of her funk. She did and they decided she would rent out the little house which is two doors down from me so they could have a little income streaming in and she would move back in with him.
I helped my neighbor move out and it was really really sad.
This weekend sucked.