This is a photo I took yesterday from my front window, a photo not only of the sunset, but of the apartment across the street where my friend Janeen lives. No, not the apartment with the light on, but the one above it, the one that is dark.
Janeen and her son moved into that apartment seven months ago. We joked about running a string between two tin cans from our place to hers. Although we really haven’t seen each other any more frequently than when she lived a mile away, I’ve liked knowing that Janeen was right across the street. Having a neighbor who is truly a friend, not just a person with whom one is friendly, is a rare treat.
Janeen received notice three weeks ago that her apartment building is going condo, that she’ll have to move. She was angry, and sad, and scared. Yet as I’ve watched these past few weeks, Janeen has moved from reacting to acting, from confusion to clarity. She has gracefully discovered the answers to difficult questions, and made important decisions for herself and her son.
Yesterday, when I took this photo, Janeen was in Port Townsend, on the Olympic Peninsula, looking for a house to rent. A house that she can afford as she lives her dream of being a writer. A house with a yard in which her son can play. A house with an extra bedroom, for friends from Seattle who come to visit. A house too far away for stretching string between tin cans, but never so far away as to strain the bonds of friendship.
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Moving… is it harder on the one who moves and leaves or those left behind? But, new horizons, new places to see, new futures begin…. and now, you will have even more places to capture in your camera.
I guess maybe it’s for the better? A house with a yard sounds pretty nice to me.
Although I’m sure you’ll miss each other.
It looks like I got the house, too. And it does indeed have three bedrooms and a yard. It even has a big rosemary bush out front. We’ll just have to go back to the virtual tin-can communication system.
I’m glad she has found a pleasant new home, because being booted by condos is horrible. When it happened to us last year, we had to move out of an apartment three doors down from our (then one-year-old) daughter’s grandparents. Losing that proximity was one of the worst things. Obviously there are far worse ways to lose your home, but thinking about it still makes me feel sad and angry. We were left with a slightly unsettled feeling that I think is permanent, at least as long as we’re renters.
Looking forward to seeing your bread photos; I hope we’ll try it this weekend.