The year before J1 was born, we bought the house we still live in today. I remember my sister telling my mother "Aw, he bought her a dollhouse.", and that's exactly what it is. She, referring to my dollhouse, sits proudly in an old neighborhood, that's nice and flat, and is covered in a canopy of Oak and Walnut tree's that are older than she is.
When J1 was 18 months old, he met his lifelong friend Z. They met at what I like to call "Baby Harvard" which is the best child care center in the city. The center is housed up on the hill, where both Z's mother and I work. Soon after we met, they moved their family to my neighborhood, and our kids have gone to all the same schools. They are the Timely family.
A year or so later, the Godsend's moved into the old yellow and white Victorian across the street. The house had been broken into two units for decades, and the Godsend's, with all their children, grandchildren, and extended family, restored it to it's original glory of a single family home.
Together, our village has weathered many storms, both figuratively and literally, and we've all been there for each other. Recently, the Godsend's announced that they would soon depart our sweet village, and while I know that change is the only constant, it's a day I've always dreaded.
Once, when we were teenagers, my sister told me she dreamt that I had gone down the drain in the kitchen sink as a big blob of slime. No surprise there, but then she said I suddenly flew back out as a butterfly. I've never forgotten that dream.
I think I'm ready to talk about the long storm I've weathered, because I believe I'm coming out the other side. But this I know for sure, I would have never survived without the support of my village. And for me to tell these stories, you've got to know who the Timely's and Godsend's are, because none of it could have happened without them.
