I met my back alley neighbor for the first time when his mother in law drove her car through my fence. She uprooted a 3-inch round metal post from the older chain link fence and a wooden 4x4 post from the newer prefab panel fence. (It looked gnarly.) She wanted to apologize, he said, but she doesn’t speak much English. I will fix it, he said, first thing tomorrow. It will be fixed.
You could hear it in his voice: He knew that he, by extension, and his mother in law, by action, was in the wrong. And mentally he was gripping, squeezing, bracing to keep his hands on the steering wheel for a sure-to-be-strenuous exchange.
Little did he know the fence was already falling apart. Slats in the prefab panels—installed hastily by the previous homeowners—coming loose and toppling over in winds from the most recent bomb cyclone.
I held out my arms, palms parallel to the loosened dirt strewn underfoot. I let them bob gently, like I was waist deep in the wave pool, hanging back after clearing the final wave from the last session. Just undulating.
I was determined not to make this situation any more stressful than need be.
Hi, my name is Ken, I said, bringing my hand to my chest. What’s your name? A—? Nice to meet you A—, I said. Is your car okay?
Renewal, on the one hand, is about regeneration.
The fence regenerated. I put the panel and the gate back together. There were really only two or three slats that were truly broken, but I was able to replace them from a different part of the fence. A— helped me re-set the post in concrete. Then a day or two later, after the concrete had enough time to harden, I had A— help me secure the panel and the gate back into place. A little worse for wear, but perfectly functional.
On the other hand, renewal is about resumption.
Our previously proximate yet partitioned living arrangement resumed. The only difference is that now if I happen to be bringing trash out to the bins while A— or more often his mother in law is also in the alley, we wave or otherwise exchange friendly gestures and brief comments through wide smiles. Pleasantries. Which is perfectly fine with me. We’re not suddenly popping in on each other like some 90s sitcom. Although that could actually be really cool?
Personally, the whole experience offered me a sort of glimpse at a kind of existential or spiritual renewal. I showed myself I could be the calming influence I’ve often felt is unattainable. That to be a good neighbor provides fulfillment. Soon enough we will be meeting new neighbors—will be new neighbors. Reflecting on my actions in that situation leaves me with a decidedly optimistic outlook.
Whether that all sticks, I don’t know. For now I just hope the fence stays put.
It’s just a flesh wound.
This post is part of the IndieWeb carnival for April 2025 hosted by Jamie Thingelstad on the topic of renewal.
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