Sitting on my front porch, sipping coffee, always black with a touch of milk. Gosh, this brings me joy. You have to understand, my front porch is small, two black wrought iron rocker chairs and a matching ottoman, overstuffed pillows, flowering plants, even two hanging plants filled with orange blooms, deep purple and green leaves, and a jute rug with a green cotton rug underneath. It truly is a haven.
Every morning, I take it in. No neighbors are out and about; occasional bunnies munch in the grass.
I hide away and just breathe.
I appreciate the mornings and the quiet time to reflect
It’s the only time of the day, before sounds starts…there are no little voices saying, “I’m hungry.” “Mom, what’s for breakfast?”, “I can’t find my keys”, or “I have nothing to wear!” Just simple silence. I appreciate this time to pray and reflect on my life, my grown and mid-grown children, even the last Little-now becoming my last Big.
It occurred to me though that we’ve become the Howlands. The Howlands were retired school teachers who lived next door. Every day they would wait at the top of the street and offer candy to the kids coming home from the school bus.
They were affectionately known as “Candy Mans.” I was a parent who was the beneficiary of four children given candy fixes at 3:45 in the afternoon. Homework would always be a chore when they got candy after school. It still makes me cringe and laugh at the same time.
Goodness, I sure miss the Candy Mans.
Our neighbors were beloved by our community
Mrs. Howland passed after a brief battle with cancer, completely loved on by her family. Mr. Howland, died, one month to the day of Mrs. Howland’s passing. His two grown children believed their father died from a broken heart.
It was a genuine loss for the SW 9th Terrace gang and their parents.
We LOVED them.
I’m now watching the new generations of families…babies born and all the firsts with parents. These Littles and “Half-Grown” kids are somehow drawn to my husband and me. I watch my guy, talk “business” with our neighbor kid who has officially started his own lawn mowing LLC.
It’s a gift to see the “new littles” on our block grow up
The little ones, next door, shyly smile and say, “Hi!”. Our local, red-headed-busy-bee, who flies down the sidewalk, riding her scooter in a frenzy, always stops by to “visit.”
What a sweet gift to see the smiles, the tears, on all the faces and an honor to just talk with these little souls. Somehow, in our own way, we’ve become the Howlands.
I guess, it never really was about the candy the Howlands gave the kids, it was about the time they took to talk to my babies. For that I’m forever grateful and I will always give back to the SW 9th Terrace gang.
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