Moving vans have been coming and going all day, and I figure our neighbors' house must be empty by now.
...Writing this sentence suddenly makes a tear sneak out under my left eyelid.
Even though we've not been the kind of neighbors sharing regular dinners and drinks, their presence, right here next to us, has always felt so right. Actually quite comforting at times. Their sounds, their smiles, small talks while lending some milk, a chat in the forest while walking the dogs. Having fresh baked bread delivered surprisingly at the doorstep on a Sunday morning. And Christmas presents delivered in small bags for the children on the morning of the 24. of December every year for 13 years.
Sharing small pieces of life. Living quite close, and still sharing a great respect for privacy.
Not one single conflict in 13 years. Not one. Not even a small feeling of irritation or dispute.
Today, while training in this machine that we actually got from them a couple of weeks ago, and thinking about the people who were emptying their house bit by bit, I chose to focus not on the loss of a couple of wonderful neighbors, but instead appreciating 13 years of great neighborhood.
It does not take away that sneaky feeling of ache that I feel inside right now, but it adds a feeling of appreciation at the same time.