The snow here is beautiful to me. I love how it seems to blanket everything in purity. Like a heart washed clean by the blood of Christ.
Looking out my picture window, I see three houses across the street that make me sad. One house was our Sunday night desination for coffee, laughs and Simpsons. One house was the location for our Tuesday night Bible study and potluck, and the home of my son’s best friend. The third house belonged to a very close friend of mine, a true sister in my heart.
We had something special. Borrowing eggs, toilet -paper, blenders, diapers, you name it – we were always there for eachother. Poking our heads into each-others houses and lives at all times of the day and night. We saw eachother through good times and bad. Clean houses and… not so clean.
When I was shoveling snow the other day, I felt a bit lonely. It used to be that when I shoveled, I could look across the street and say “Hi” to one of my dear friends as they shoveled their walk, and our kids would be playing together in the front yards.
They’ve all moved away. It’s a good thing for them – leaving the city for safer suburbs. I am happy for them. But I miss them. Two of those houses are now home to renters, and one is vacant. One other family is left beside ours – they are a street behind us. I am glad they are still here – we carpool and babysit for eachother, but not being on the same street makes them even feel a little distant.
We had a rare and special thing – not sure exactly what to call it, so “thing” will have to suffice. I don’t want to sit here and have a pity party, I guess I am just really realizing how amazing that time was, and that I may never have it again. I am thankful for the experience.
And in a few short months, it will be my turn to move away from this street in the city.
To be continued . . . .