Barbara J. Hamby

The Neighborhood

Before I moved into this apartment more than three years ago, I hadn’t lived in a rental unit for many years. Most of the apartments in this complex are arranged in a traditional way with hallways joining them together. I assume the occupants run into each other coming and going and get fairly well acquainted.

Our unit is part of a four-plex, with an adjacent duplex. So there are six apartments all with separate outside entrances. I see people come and go through a window now and then, but rarely run into the close neighbors in the parking lot. Only the unit next door to us is still occupied by the tenants who were there when I moved in. I know their names and we have occasional short conversations. Once in a while, I see the husband in the swimming pool, or we will see both of them at a lunch or a dinner at the clubhouse.

This last week I’ve seen the wife and daughter go to or from a car through my kitchen window. I’ve not seen the husband. I wondered if he’s ill. I hesitated to go ring their bell, in case he had passed away and I hadn’t heard. Today I finally ran into the wife as she went to their car and I came from mine. I took advantage of the opportunity to ask about her husband and learned he had been in the hospital with congestive heart failure, had an operation and is recovering at home.

I feel a little sad that we don’t know our neighbors better. I think I have to relearn how to live in an apartment.

Tonight my thoughts are with my daughter and son-in-law as he spends his second night in a hospital waiting for test reports. His atrial fibrillation has been stabilized and we wait to see what caused his collapse last night with very low blood pressure and high heart rate.

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