Single-Parent Guilt

Having great kids was something I never felt I could truly take credit for. I was always so proud of them and bragged about how wonderful they were, yet I knew that it wasn't me that made them that way.

When I was 23, I had just gotten a divorce and moved from North Dakota to Minnesota to Arizona to Idaho in a span of just three months, dragging along my 3-year-old daughter and 5-year-old son. In the process, I had changed jobs twice and couldn't afford to move my belongings that were in storage yet in North Dakota. We found an apartment with a fabulous view of Pocatello and were within driving distance of the best of everything: the Grand Tetons, Salt Lake City, the Snake River, and so much more. All I had to do was to get back on my feet.

Neighbors Make the World Go 'Round!

Recently, my daughter's next door neighbors, really the best neighbors ever, moved half-way across the country. They hadn't known them all that long, they actually just met a couple of years ago when she moved to Boston, and each day they learned more and more about each other and found they had so very many things in common. It wasn't long before they were the best of friends, hanging out together, looking out for each others pets, and were eventually in each others weddings. They couldn't have asked for better neighbors, and they'll be awfully hard to replace.

I must admit that I don't know too many people who know their neighbors very well. Oh, sure, we know some of their names; we wave and even invite each other to our parties, yet a little small talk here and there just doesn't make for a really good neighbor. Not, at least, compared to the way we knew our neighbors when I was a kid.