This morning I realized how much neighborhood noises affect me. I especially notice certain cars, lawnmowers, dogs, and the mail truck. Of those, the mail truck is the most unpredictable one, arriving at any time these days.
The most captivating sounds, though, are those coming from the house next door. For lack of a better name, Tom and I refer to it as The Rehab House. We notice when the house is full of newcomers, just starting on the rehab path, and when it is empty after each group “graduates.” Even with our windows closed, we can hear them.
As early as 5:30 am, the residents converse and laugh as they visit outside in the back yard. I’ve noticed that when I hear happy noise over there, I feel happy inside too. Somehow these individuals, who are most likely new to each other, bond quickly during their free time.
But Tom and I can also tell when stress is building up inside the house. There’s loud shouting and then the police arrive, often to take away someone who might not have followed the house rules. At other times, the fire truck and ambulance race up to this end of the block to assist someone suffering through what might be the pangs of withdrawal.
I have to be honest. In the beginning, I was horrified to discover that our neighborhood was housing people with addictions right next door to us! But now I feel contentment because I think of The Rehab House as a place of hope. When the house is empty, as it can be for a few weeks at a time until the next group arrives, I feel a bit empty inside too. As people do come and go, I wonder how they will fare after they leave. We know that each one of us is on a journey, but some of us have a longer, more challenging road to travel.
Gee! You live i such a beautiful house in a beautiful neighborhood and while the house next door is a place of hope for many, it has to be kind of sad and maybe unsettling at times too!
Janice, we don’t mind at all. They have really been good neighbors.