Three Doors Down
I was three houses from home when I saw my neighbor Audrey sitting in her driveway. I had just finished giving a presentation and was still in my business clothes. By that point, I was more than ready to get home, change into something comfortable, and be done with looking presentable. (I'm a barefoot-is-best kind of girl.)
Audrey is 95 and lives just three doors down. She was in her wheelchair with her caregiver beside her, so as I drove by, I waved. She waved back. That's often the extent of our exchange when I'm on my way up or down the street.
But for some reason, this time I rolled down my window and called out a quick hello. The smile on her face made me think I should probably do a little better than a drive-by greeting, so I pulled over, parked in front of her house, and got out.
We started talking, and there I was, in my dress and shoes, standing in the hot sun while my air-conditioned house and bare feet were only three doors away. Audrey has a wonderful sense of humor and an outlook on life that always brightens my day, so getting home quickly seemed a little less important.
We caught up for a while, and then Audrey and her caregiver both told me to look up.
High in one of the tall pine trees above us were two large hawks sitting side by side. Each one had a fish. And not a little fish. These were the largest fish I think I've ever seen a bird carry. I have no idea how they managed to get them up there, but there they were, having lunch together right over our heads.
The three of us stood there watching. It was spectacular.
Just three more houses and I would have been home and out of my shoes, but I would have missed one of those rare moments you couldn't plan if you tried.
What stayed with me, though, wasn't only the hawks. It was how close I came to waving and driving on.
We do a lot of greeting around the Beaches. We're a pretty friendly bunch. We wave from our cars, say good morning when we pass someone walking a dog and smile at familiar faces at the grocery store or coffee shop. Sometimes we know the dog's name and still haven't gotten around to learning the owner's.
I love those little exchanges. They are part of what makes living here feel the way it does. But that afternoon reminded me that there's a difference between a quick hello and actually stopping for someone. Sometimes all it takes is a few extra minutes to listen, laugh and enjoy the person in front of us. And often, we're the ones who walk away a little richer for it.
I'm certainly not suggesting we need to pull over every time we see someone we know. We'd never get anywhere. But I do wonder how much we miss when we're always on our way to the next thing.
Eventually, I drove those last three houses home, just a little later than planned.
It was well worth the wait.
Karin Frosio is a speaker, consultant and founder of Revive Joy® in Atlantic Beach, helping individuals, organizations and communities strengthen resilience, deepen connection and build the capacity to thrive. www.revivejoy.com
