The Underappreciated Family Members
"Good fences make good neighbors".
Y'all know that Robert Frost was being ironic, right?
Two years ago and for the first time in my adult life, I have been enormously blessed in having next-door neighbors who are real neighbors. I have lived in this small house on Bernal Hill for 10.5 years, the last 8.5 years alone. Bill and Edgar have been my neighbors since New Year's Eve, 2001.
In a very specific way, I suppose my 8.5 years alone in this house haven't been alone since that evening, when Bill apologized for not 'having much here' to serve to me, even as he presented a warm Brie with mango chutney and water crackers to go with our champagne.
I knew even before leaving their house that it was a new year, a new time, a less-alone time for me. I knew, as sometimes you just do, that I'd come to count on them, to have them count on me. I knew that 3 separate friendships had begun that night: one between Bill and me; one between Edgar and me; one between me and the Bill-and-Edgar household.
I have found myself over the past two years referring to them as my next-door neighbors, each time realizing that it was important that I'd said "next-door" and also realizing that the term 'neighbor' didn't nearly cover it.
Both are extraordinary men, extraordinary human beings. They are my friends and I am their friend. It's more than that, though. These are people with whom I am more comfortable yelling over the short fence between our backyards than calling on the phone.
That's why I'm going to make sure they at least have a webcam when they complete their move to New York City.
I was thinking about this tonight as I walked their dog, have been thinking about this as I've been walking their dog three times a day since Thursday. They are the ones for whom the little hillside community is "ours" and not just "mine". They are the ones for whom driving home is also dropping me off at home. They are the ones who have just Been There, literally, when I have needed them, when I have wanted to talk to them.
I have had more San Francisco-specific adventures with them than I can count. Edgar sometimes makes me laugh so hard I cry, and has even diverted almost-crying to guffawing laughter without even knowing he did it.
I already miss them more than they know.
All you New York people that I know, please take care of them for me, okay? I expect that Sam and I will have to fly there to check up on that, in either case.
Thank you in advance, you're lucky to be getting such awesome new neighbors.