The finality of Bill and Sandy moving

When I woke up this morning, I was having a pretty okay day. The air was crisp and cool this morning for a late-April day in Texas. Nothing overly special about the day. Just sort of a run-of-the-mill nice day.

Bill came back to the house around 10 a.m. because today is the last day that he or Sandy would have access to the house. Bill needed my help unhooking and unplugging the washer, dryer, and refrigerator. And then my mood just did a 180. And I’ve been down in the dumps since. That was the first time that I’d been over there and experienced the finality that is them moving out. The house was completely empty except for the appliances that I was to unplug. It was like turning off life support. I don’t know how to explain it.

Being in their kitchen again. I put the new lights in over the island. Just being there with Bill sitting on the edge of the bay windows as I’m unhooking the washing machine. Being in the backyard again. I’ve spent countless hours and walked miles mowing that yard. Hanging out and talking to Bill in the driveway. Replacing the bulbs in the garage.

We’ve grown close to Bill & Sandy in the last nearly 20 years. I’m probably closer to them than any other neighbor. I actually think Bill was the first neighbor I met when I took a letter over to their house that was accidentally placed in our mailbox.

And it’s kind of dumb, but one of my fondest most recent memories was when we were in for a freeze on a night this past February. I ran across the street to help Bill move some plants inside and he and I just hung out in the foyer and talked. I guess there was just something about him and I out in the cold, taking care of the plants, and then going inside where it was warm and having a chat about probably not much of anything.

I’m just really going to miss the hell out of them. I didn’t realize how important and special the neighbors that live right across the street from you can become. They’re really like family to me.