Thursday, October 25, 2012

Sue


            My family moved from Idaho to Oregon when I was four years old.  Besides the Kniesteadts, who were 3 and 5 years older than myself, our cul-de-sac was made up of older couples in their 50’s to 60’s, but that didn’t stop us from play dates and backyard adventures.  We annoyed every neighbor on the street by trampling flowers and showing up showing up unexpectedly.  We quickly wore out our welcome at Natalie’s, the oldest and crankiest.  She treated us as her grandkids but it can be difficult when 4, then 5, then 6, out of control kids aren’t actually related to you.  When we noticed Natalie’s exhaustion, my younger brother Garrett found Sue, who was married to Mike and lived two houses down.  We’d met her when we moved in but didn’t pay much attention to her at first.
            Garrett would occasionally disappear, which never bothered us until he started coming back with treats.  He could be gone for hours and we didn’t care, but the second he came back with a juice box or a fig newton, we were on him like cat hair on a black shirt.  When he told us they were from Sue, we were shy at first, but Garrett said she was nice and the cookies were proof enough.  “Nice” isn’t even close to what or who Sue Barnette is.  After the first time I followed Garrett over and stood awkwardly while Garrett chatted with Sue, I warmed up and never looked back.
            It was impossible not to feel completely comfortable around Sue.  She was kind, generous, caring, sincere, and friendly.  She had a unique and very easy laugh.  She laughed at her jokes, she laughed at ours, and she laughed because she loved life, but best of all, she made me feel important.  To her I wasn’t an irritating six year old.  I was an intelligent person who deserved compassion, conversation, and companionship.  I don’t remember Sue and I having much in common, but she shared her love of plants, knowledge of flowers, tips on compost, plums from her trees, and countless cookies.
            Living in a neighborhood without other kids to play with was never a setback or a worry.  We made friends wherever we went and Sue taught us that friends can be all ages and from all walks of life.

2 comments:

  1. "... we were on him like cat hair on a black shirt" is my fav line, Chelsea.
    Love this snippet about your neighborhood in Tigard, only wish it were longer.

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  2. This is so sweet, love and miss our life in Tigard.

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