A love letter to our city neighbors

A brief ode to the people who've made these last 10 years such a treat.

We’re moving to the suburbs.

While there is so much I’m excited about, there is so much I’m already missing about the city. On the top of that list are our neighbors who have made this city home. Here are some of my favorites.

The man across the block who lost one of his two dogs to an ex-partner in a bad breakup. Who rescued a second dog again. Who we saw just last week with his new partner, three dogs in tow.

The bar rat who became a friend. Who we would see around the neighborhood and who we were eventually introduced to. Who was once a stranger, but we now text frequently and meet up with every Tuesday for happy hour. Who we see more than our own families.

Every bartender and restaurant owner who has made their bars feel like an extension of our own kitchen. Who saved our sanity in 2020 with outdoor dining; who send us drinks for free. Who make the city feel so much less lonely than it should.

The owner of the Frenchie who adopted her pup the exact same day we did our English and who commiserated with us on bulldog puppy health. Who we met peak pandemic, all of us in masks. Who left the city before the end, so we never saw her face.

The twins next door who were newborns when we moved in. Who started referring to our dog Chuck as ‘woof,’ and eventually ‘gog,’ then ‘dog,’ and graduated to ‘Tuck,’ and finally, ‘Chuck.’ Who now excitedly point to us when they see us on the street and call us ‘Chuck’s mommy and daddy.’ Who were 3 weeks old when we met them, and now 3.5 as we leave.

The woman who has lived in our building longer than we’ve been alive, who gives and takes from the Free Little Library at least once a day. Who is always out walking the city, be it 2am or 9pm and moves our packages to a safe spot away from porch pirates if we don’t grab them within an hour.

The Italian grandfather who helps every single neighbor, down to hanging signs for (what he thought was) a coffee shop, that turned out to be a dispensary. Who takes his grandchildren to school every morning and grows grapes in his city yard. Who wears a polo tucked into khakis every single day.