The importance of neighbors

A few weeks ago, a case of Tim Tam cookies was delivered to our doorstep, sent by our former neighbor, Miss Jean.

When we bought our first house on Hilton Head back in 2002, we were the first family on the block to arrive. Two weeks later, our new next-door neighbors, retirees Jean and James “Whitey” Wright, moved in.

Whitey had a head of white hair, mischievous blue eyes and a red cardigan he wore on his walks to the mailbox. When a tree company truck broke our water pipe and sent a river of water rushing down the street, he was the hero of the day when he emerged from his garage carrying the exact tool needed to shut off the main. He laughed as my toddlers stomped in the puddles and he helped me figure out who to call to fix it.

We missed him when he passed away far too soon.

As much as we adored Whitey, it was Miss Jean who captured our hearts.

Miss Jean, with her gray bob and signature hats. Miss Jean, who went to exercise class but joked she mostly sat in the back visiting with friends. Miss Jean, with her Greenville accent, who called me “Honey.”

Miss Jean became a friend to us and a third grandmother to our boys. She attended Grandparents Day events, celebrated birthdays, sat through school concerts and made them feel special and loved. She also introduced them to Tim Tams, or as they call them, “Miss Jean cookies.”

Generous to a fault, if she went strawberry picking, a box of fresh berries would appear on our doorstep. If she made brownies with her stovetop fudge topping, a plate would be waiting on our porch. She always had a treat for the boys and would bring us back something from her travels.

But, she was most generous with her friendship. She always had a listening ear, asked about my friends and family and shared news of her own. Over the years, I heard all about niece Nancy, sister Sarah, daughter Jill, son Jeff and his wife Lisa, and of course, the “grands.”

When my mother died, she listened while I talked.

My youngest would call and ask to visit her. The answer was always yes. Off he would run, and when I checked in a bit later, I would find him cozy on her couch with a tray of snacks, cartoons on the television, showing her something on the iPad.

Miss Jean has a crew of “grands,” and as children do, they grew up, married and moved away. Her children moved too, and seven years ago Miss Jean made the move to be with them in the mountains. There, “Gran Jean” is surrounded by family, grands and great-grands. She has a birthday this month with a 9 in it.

So, while it was a surprise when that box of Tim Tams arrived at our door, it was very much the sort of thing she would do. She knows how much my now-college-aged boys loved the Tim Tams she bought for them when they were little, and the package was a reminder that some friendships never really fade.

Not long after Miss Jean moved away, we moved to a different area of the island. Last week, we learned our current next-door neighbors are moving. It made me think about how important neighbors can be, especially in a place where so many of us came from somewhere else.

Sometimes neighbors become friends. Sometimes they become family. And if you’re especially lucky, you get a Miss Jean.