The Kindness of Semi-Strangers

There is a house with a short wide driveway that leads up to garage, the path and steps to the front door feeling something like an afterthought. There is a stately Torrey pine that stands at the top of the grass that sits adjacent to the driveway, between the garage and the rest of the front yard. In that house lives our neighbors, their daughter the same age as mine. Before they started middle school they would sometimes hang out on that driveway or do backbends on the grass. Sometimes they would come do crafts on the small shared front porch of our apartment building.

I like the parents and feel we have similar views on many things, even if our girls aren’t super close friends. The mom and I talk eagerly the rare times we happen to find ourselves in conversation. The times we’ve talked most recently, however, have been in the hallway at the middle school, our daughters off with their friends during Open House or Celebration of something-or-other. We laugh and admit that we should really make an effort to connect more often, it is so refreshing to share with another like-minded parent. But then we also both sheepishly confess that the walks we take in the morning or evening, an easy time that we could connect, are typically our only alone time. It is nice to be understood.

Last summer, they were going through a rough patch with their daughter, who I have only known to be smart and thoughtful, respectful and intentional. We ran into each other on a walk, the husband sending his eyes skyward in frustration, confessing with a mutter that the hamster that they’d had when first married was much less trouble, as his wife explained in her clear and practical way that they were in the thick of teenage angst. I have had my own struggles, with my children’s situation far less predictable and nurturing than what they have provided. Jeez, they probably heard my daughter yelling when we were going through a dark period, unintentionally informing the entire neighborhood of her rage. And yet I feel we are able to share these glimpses of our parenting paths with compassion of living through real life rather than a critical eye or “better you than me.”

During the height of the pandemic lockdown, their family provided a lifeline. They texted us, offering that summer for us to come through their side gate and use their pool on those afternoons they weren’t using it. The public pools were closed and we couldn’t go to the beach at that time, and my family needs the water. It is our shared activity, our happy place, and very practically, a good way for two kids to get out some energy after spending long days in our small apartment. I still marvel at this gift. We would wave at them through the window and then have an hour of playing invented games in the pool or doing dramatic entries into the deep end- either synchronized or along an inspired theme. When I had to “appear” in court on-line they allowed me to set up camp at the table in their backyard, leaving a power cord snaking out their backdoor so I could hook up my sister’s laptop and spend that long terrible day in a place where my children couldn’t overhear the proceedings. When we were all starting to limp back to reporting to work in person, I was able to aid in picking up their daughter from school several times when they were figuring out childcare, but it feels like small repayment for their acts of kindness. I mean, I was already going there anyway! Such generosity and kindness from people that I’m not really that close to and who have no familial obligation to give me anything. I am grateful.

— slowjamr