The Best Neighbors

Eight years ago (this week, in fact) Marc and I made our first big move as a young, married couple from our little duplex in Springville to an apartment in a little suburb of Portland. Tigard was home for just a little over a year, but we loved our time there. Some of our favorite memories all stem from the first big decision we made upon arrival - where to live.

After walking through at least a couple of dozen apartments, we finally ended up at Cross Creek. It wasn't even on our list of places to check out, but somehow we ended up there. I still remember walking up to the manager's apartment, looking around at the lovely setting of the complex, and already feeling like we had found the right place for us. When Christy (the manager) and her almost-one-year old daughter, Maddy, showed us one of the open apartments we felt even better about living there. There were some specific things that happened that finalized the decision and made it very clear to us that it was a good choice. I just didn't realize at the time how much such a decision would affect my life.

After living there for just a couple of short months, Christy echoed my squeals of excitement when we found out we were expecting our first baby. And, then just a couple of weeks later she was waiting as we returned home from the hospital with nothing but tears, broken hearts, and news that we had lost our baby. I remember being so touched by the tears she shed right along with me. I didn't expect compassion that deep from such a new friend.

We became fast friends. One of those friendships that doesn't take any effort. It was an added bonus that our husbands liked each other, too. And, over the last eight years, even with long distances separating us and visits that are much too infrequent, we've managed to keep our friendship as strong as it was when we were neighbors at Cross Creek.

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A couple of weeks ago we were able to spend a little over a week in the sun with our all-time favorite neighbors. The boys and I squeezed ourselves into the back seat of my parents' Civic, as they were headed to my brother's house which was conveniently right on the way. I'll admit the boys weren't super pleased with my traveling arrangements that included waking them at four in the morning and them being strapped in their car seats for an insane amount of time... but we survived. Thanks, in part, to moments like this:

(We had to leave Marc behind to finish up some urgent work projects, but he joined us for the last couple of days.)

Once we arrived, I think the boys thought they were in heaven. And, I felt exactly the same way, though for different reasons.

More to come...