The last time I hosted some women friends at our cottage, one of our plans was to grill up some burgers for dinner — but our old grill was acting up. I asked our neighbor if he could help me light it, and wondered if he might be able to tell if there was something wrong with it. He said he could fix my grill, but he also said, “You’re welcome to use mine. It can accommodate more burgers and it’s easy to use.” So that’s what I did. “Wow,” my friends said. “Everyone needs a neighbor like that.”
On another evening, that same neighbor offered us the use of his pontoon when he noticed my husband and I were entertaining some friends for the weekend. Canoes and kayaks are great, and so are croquet and hiking, but a relaxing pontoon ride sure would be the icing on the cake, I thought, as he dangled the keys in front of us.
Of course, we took him up on his offer and enjoyed cruising around our lake for a couple hours. We were having such a good time that, before we knew it, it grew dark. Michigan dark. We quickly became disoriented and couldn’t find our way back to the dock. A cell phone call to our neighbor (an embarrassing exchange, at that), and 10 minutes later he was hoisting a light on his dock, and waving and signaling into the night, hoping we’d see him. We did.
This is also the man who offered to help us install our microwave above the oven (it meant redesigning cupboards), hauled out an old water heater and helped put in a new one, and came to the rescue when our furnace broke down during a winter visit. “You can stay at our place; you know where the key is. Or I can come up and help you install a new one,” he offered. He was there the next day, and installed a new furnace and smart thermostat!
Most recently, our pontoon was on the fritz, unbeknownst to us, and after watching a lovely display of Fourth of July fireworks a few miles down the beach, we found ourselves floating wearily amid the eerie quiet. Who did we call? You know who! In seconds, that saint and his lovely wife appeared in their boat, ready to tow us home. “You’re not a boat owner until this happens!” he yelled to us.
Our affable, ready-to-assist neighbor won’t take money for any of these favors, but we can often cajole him into a happy hour beverage (I’m reminded to try the recipes in this issue at our next cocktail gathering!) or a steak dinner out on us. Sometimes a gift card is just the ticket. Years earlier, another neighbor, who has since passed, would help us put our dock in every spring. He’d arrive at our door before we would even ask for help. A 12-pack of Pepsi was all he’d ever take in exchange for his annual commitment.
Do you know your neighbors? Even if they’re located down the beach, do you wave to each other when you boat by? Try it. Connections can be made with just a head nod or a wave.
My husband and I recently hosted a dinner at our downstate home for some of our neighbors. Former next-door neighbors were on the invite list, too. I posted a few photos on Facebook afterward and the comments were so revealing. “What a nice idea. I find neighbors don’t do that anymore. Everyone stays to themselves.” “Can I be your neighbor?” “That’s what life is all about.”
Our Design Star in this issue, Vanessa Chaverri-Gratz, senses the importance of good neighbors. When she and her husband moved to Grosse Ile, just a few steps from the Detroit River, she was pining not only to live in a four-season state near water (they were living in Texas), but she also wanted to feel like a part of something. She shared with me that Grosse Ile is a friendly community that’s quiet and feels rural.
“People in Grosse Ile are neighborly, and they look out for each other,” she says. I knew exactly what she meant.
Our old grill has since been replaced. The next time the girls come up, I’ll be flipping burgers on a bright, shiny new one, and I likely won’t need help from my neighbor. But, of course, when you own a boat — now, what’s that saying again?
Facebook Comments