It is a cold day, a windy day, a sunny day, a beautiful day. The high predicted today is one degree below zero with a windchill of 23 degrees below. The morning sky is clear and blue. Sitting in my family room, I am bathed in sunlight through the windows. The furnace is running almost constantly and is just barely winning the battle against the cold wind that whips around the corners of the house. The house creaks and rattles, but stands strong and sturdy on this fiercely cold winter's day. I'm sitting here reflecting on how a short, impromptu visit to the neighbor's a little bit ago warmed my heart and soul against the cold and wind that traps us in our own little technology enabled bubble.
I arrived home from the gym this morning around 9am. I parked my car in the garage and walked back out to the end of the driveway to check for the paper and the mail. The air was frigid cold and so clean and crisp you'd think it would crumble as you inhaled. I could hear the snow squeaked under my boots and the wind howl through the branches of the trees. I was dressed to be outside in this cold Arctic day so I was reasonably comfortable. On a whim, I decided to take the short walk up the road to check on my neighbors. They are an older couple, wonderful people, great neighbors. My wife and I had been discussing how this cold could be hard on some people and it was a simple matter to walk the 200 feet up the hill to say hi and just check on them.
I walked up to the front porch and knocked on the front door. In a moment I was greeted by John who, without missing a beat and without giving me any chance to object, ushered me from the cold windswept front porch into his family room. Before I knew it, I was relieved of my heavy jacket and Donna handed me a hot cup of coffee in a large, beautifully decorated mug with red and yellow flowers on it. As I sat down, and paid my respects to Lucinda (the old labradoodle that greets all visitors) I was already thinking about how this simple, some might say quaint, custom of visiting neighbors seems to be disappearing.
We sat in a warm and comfortable room and talked, the three of us, while Lucinda, having checked me out for any interesting scents and, having received a satisfactory stroke of her fur and the requisite scratching behind her ears, curled up on a blanket on the floor in front of the fireplace.
We talked about our families and I learned more about how my neighbors met and eventually married. As we talked I look around the cozy, New England style decorated room. There were wool blankets hung over some chairs and pictures on the fireplace mantel. The coffee was hot and rich. I felt warm and welcomed. I had come to visit and perhaps brighten their day, but I was as much on the receiving end.
After about an hour or so of visiting I decided it was time to take my leave. They seemed so pleased that I stopped over and I was pleased to have had such a pleasant, relaxing visit. I thought to myself how, in this age of Internet and texts, Facebook and twitter, this relaxing habit of visiting with neighbors is being lost to our younger generations. This little bit of relaxation didn't require gadgets or software or money. It required only a little time and a willingness to engage with other people without a script or purpose other than a genuine interest in their life.
Something that my parents and grandparents took for granted, this sense of community, of neighborhood, and the desire to connect with humanity is fading into the "when I was young..." category of stories we tell around Thanksgiving day dinner table. I will, however, keep this wonderful little visit in mind and try to reach out more to my neighbors and friends so, at least in my small world, I am connected to more than a cell phone. My front porch is open for visitors!
