When A Neighborhood Starts To Feel Like Home

I was wondering what to write about when I glanced out the front window to see my neighbor, Emily, playing basketball by herself ... just like the first time we met her.

Sick and tired of the home my husband had purchased while still a bachelor, I strong-armed him into looking at a couple of open houses on the far north side of town one Sunday afternoon. When we saw the sign pointing toward what we thought for sure would be a snooty neighborhood, he balked.

"Come on," I cajoled, "it won't hurt anybody to look."

We turned the corner and there she was. The cutest little 11 year-old girl shooting baskets in her driveway, directly across the street from the open house. As we pulled to the curb, her missed free-throw rolled to the street.

"Hi," (I'll talk to anyone) "Is this a good neighborhood?"

Face lighting up, she tucks the basketball under her arm and puts her hand on her hip, nodding enthusiastically.

"It is! All the people are real nice and there's a school around the corner!"

Two initial mortgages, the trials and tribulations of renting out the other house to a pair of complete butt-nuggets, two refinances, astronomical winter heating bills and six years later, I'm still glad we're here.

Emily has graduated high school. They had her party in the backyard just like they did for her older sister two years ago and just like they'll have her brother's four years from now. Of course, when she shoots baskets now, she keeps the phone next to her. Now when a car comes by, she looks to see if it's someone she knows, someone she loves. Now a boy pulls up in an SUV. She gives him that billion-megawatt smile and they sneak a kiss before going through the garage to the backyard.

It breaks my heart to think of her going off to college, but it also makes me realize that this place has become home. For all of the unfinished and unstarted projects, for all of the hardship to keep Sparkycus in this school district and close to the performing arts school that has become his passion, for the trip to the heart of town that has become a 25-minute trek, this place has become home. And it all started with a little blond girl playing ball.