Goodbye, Old Friend

When Chris and I moved into our current house 3 1/2 years ago, we didn't know any of our neighbours. We moved in December, and what with it being winter, and with the holidays, we didn't really get the opportunity to get to know anyone for the first few months. We also didn't really get to know our surroundings all that well, either.

I'll never forget that morning in January when I first took real notice of the vehicle sitting in the parking space right in front of our house....



I'll admit that I'm sometimes not much of an observant person, and what with all the unpacking, settling in, dealing with a 1 1/2 year old, very energetic Emma, and being about 7 months pregnant with Molly, I didn't pay the car much attention. However, on that fateful January morning, the first morning I distinctly remember taking notice of the car, there was no ignoring it.

I was sitting on my couch, I believe watching the morning news, in front of my living room window when I heard the roar of an engine start. Was it an airplane circling too low? A tractor? My windows began rattling and my couch vibrating, ever so slightly. The garbage truck? The world's biggest lawnmower?

I peered anxiously out my window, and feasted my eyes upon the Jeep, being warmed up on that cold January morning. I snickered a bit to myself and went back to the news. It wasn't until I could smell the exhaust through my CLOSED WINDOW that I became concerned...and the vehicle was then forever dubbed by our family as "The Ozone Eater".

Imagine the hilarity that ensued when I finally started getting to know the neighbours that owned the vehicle, and learned that the hubby was a lawyer, who specialized in environmental law. I wondered to myself how David Suzuki might feel about that.

In 3 1/2 years we got to know our neighbours pretty well. They were great people to live next to - the kind of neighbour you could call up and ask to borrow some basil or an egg right at dinnertime, trade child-watching services, share a bottle of wine with at the last minute, and just generally count on in a crunch. We've teased them mercilessly about the Ozone Eater, which has been defended with a "But we don't even drive it anymore! How can it possibly be damaging the ozone layer?"

Yes, not long after that January morning, they acquired another vehicle, a much prettier mini-van, that they used to transport their family. And so the Ozone Eater sat, unattended, in our back parking lot, a lovely eyesore conversation piece for our little co-op, ensuring tight parking jobs for the neighbours, reduced play area for the kids, and more than a few muttered curse words.

But at least we got to make fun of it. It's not like we didn't have tons of characteristics to pick on...

Ah, yes. Note the weather-faded paint, deflated tires, and peeling wood paneling. Rumour has it that my children may have helped that peeling along a bit, but I'll never tell. Heh.

A short time ago, our neighbours packed up their lives to move across the country. We were sad to see them go, because not only were they good neighbours, but they were good friends, too. After all, they took our merciless jokes with good humour. The only thing that I had to comfort myself with was the knowledge that the Ozone Eater would not be here for much longer, either.

They sold it.

Yes, it's absolutely true. There was actually one other person on this planet who thought that the Jeep was as beautiful as my former neighbours, enough to pay them money for it. Real money. I thought maybe he was going to trade them for some worn out wool socks and a bag of M & M's, but nope, it was cash. Apparently, this man collects and re-furbishes jeeps, just like this one. Good news for the dude - he's got lots to keep him busy.

One night, a few weeks ago, the tow truck arrived, to escort the Ozone Eater away (because Lord knows it couldn't make it there on it's own power). Heh.

My neighbour and I stood together in the parking lot as they loaded up the Jeep and drove away, both of us with tears in our eyes. Hers, for all the memories wrapped up in "that majestic vehicle" (her words), and the reality of their move finally sinking in completely. And mine?

Quietly contained joy.



Our neighbours are gone, now, too. It was sad to see them go, and they will very much be missed by all of us.

But at least we will always have something to remember them by.