
When I was a little girl, I remember walking door to door to show my neighbors my skinned knee from a bike accident. You may have called me a “Boo Boo Queen.” I lived in Mississippi in the 70’s. We knew our neighbors. They all had kids around our ages. We played outside, ran through the water of the creek, chased fireflies, and rode our bikes from house to house putting on plays. Those were the days, or do they still exist?
These last few weeks I’ve been the ultimate Boo-Boo Queen following a major surgery, a hysterectomy. Recovery has been slower than I was led to believe, not because of anything more serious than basic body plumbing. It amazes me how all of that digestive stuff, gut health is so important to healing.
This recovery, however, has had some bright spots in it as I take a daily walk on my street. I feel closer than ever to my neighbors. I have come to understand that you have to let people help you. I know there will be a time when I will need to return the favor, so when next door Theresa asked if she could do anything, I sent her to the vet to pick up Charlie’s meds. Of course, when she returned, we got in a nice visit.

Yesterday I was walking and spotted a number of penny nails on the road. Perhaps some working crew had dropped them. I knew I couldn’t bend over for any length of time and pick them up, so I texted Jen and asked for one of her boys to come out with a ziplock bag. A simple act of citizenship turned into a math lesson for 9 year old James, a zine lesson for 5 year old Jerry (we wrote a story together), and an inspiring conversation with their young parents. God bless them. They are here from Indiana helping Jen’s mother cope with her father’s illness. Before my surgery, I took the three boys to a splash pad for some summer fun. After, they showed up at my door with fresh picked cucumber and a cake James made “by himself.”

With another cucumber from the neighbor’s garden, my husband suggested a watermelon and cucumber salad with dinner. I haven’t been eating much, but this idea made my mouth water. I texted another neighbor, Ric, to see if he had some basil and mint in his wife’s garden. In the late afternoon, I took another walk (figuring out that two walks a day are better than one for my recovery) and stopped at Ric’s. I came home with basil, mint, parsley, and some left over tabouli that another neighbor had made for Ric.
The list could go on. I am so blessed to live near friendly people who care about me, watch over me, and feed me. Do you have kind neighbors that sustain you?





