First off, I liked our neighbors.
No, that’s not right.
I LOVED our neighbors.
They were a lovely couple with two great kids who played with our kid. They were hospitable –occasionally inviting us over for a little grilling on the patio and a glass of wine or two.
Which is why I always felt really bad when I did “IT”.
When I would take the snow I was shoveling off of our driveway and throw it over their fence where it would land next to their driveway.
I didn’t actually throw the snow ONTO their driveway. There is about a two and a half foot space of bushes and rocks and stuff and I would throw it onto that.
But somehow, even if I wasn’t actually doing anything wrong I FELT as though I was.
And I would sort of peek out of my windows to see if the neighbor dad was anywhere around because I didn’t really want him to see me doing it.
I think I was afraid that he didn’t really appreciate the extra snow, whether it was on a space he was going to have to clear off or not, and that his witnessing the act of “snow redistribution” would indelibly change our relationship.
Actually, the subterfuge was pretty stupid because, even though he might not SEE me throwing snow over the fence, he could, of course, see the resulting piles of snow that hadn’t been there before.
Anyway, regardless of the risks and the guilty feeling of maybe being a bad neighbor I just kept on with my sneaky snow shoveling habit.
But now they’re gone. And the house is empty. It’s been empty for almost two years now.
He got diagnosed with a degenerative disease (while still very young), her job was eliminated and, though she managed to find a new one it was out of state. On top of which, like so many other people in the past 9 years, they found themselves “underwater” trying to make payments on a colossal mortgage for a house that had lost more than sixty percent of its earlier value.
They were one of those couples who bought a nice house during the height of the local “overpriced housing” bubble, did some costly renovations, and then watched the whole thing go to pot.
They tried to work with the bank but, between the changes in their job circumstances, the loss of appraised value to the house, they just couldn’t swing it all and they walked away.
And I’ve been really conflicted about the whole thing. There’s a part of me that was raised to believe that you get yourself out of whatever messes you find yourself in and you honor your commitments – no matter what. But these weren’t people who set out to “game the system”. They never had a plan to overextend themselves and leave the bank holding the bag. They just took the sorts of risks we all take when we buy a house and assume we will continue to have a job and everything will always work out in our favor.
And the dice just did not roll their way.
And the house just sits there – the bank has done absolutely NOTHING about it.
So I still throw my snow over the fence. And I don’t have the guilt anymore.
But I’m sad about the whole business.
©Copyright 2020 Anne Morse Hambrock All Rights Reserved
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