Won’t You Be My Neighbor?
My first week in the apartment I found a bottle of wine and a note at my door. “Welcome to the building,” the note read from the family who lived above me. “And we apologize for our toddler’s constant pitter-patter.” That kind act led me to go upstairs to thank them and introduce myself. Not only was it nice to meet a neighbor, but the wife became my early morning walking partner.
Last week a Michigan woman was found mummified inside her garage. No one noticed she’d been missing for six years. Though one neighbor did cut her lawn to keep the neighborhood looking good, why was no one checking out to see how she was looking? Neighbors said they thought she was traveling or had moved.
But questions linger. Wouldn’t her mail have piled up? Wasn’t anyone aware that the lights were never on? Something doesn’t add up, but regardless, hearing this makes me want to knock on everyone’s door in my building and introduce myself. If not to possibly make another friend, but just so that if someone doesn’t see me for a few days, they take notice.