Sitting on the porch is one of my and my husband’s favorite things to do. It really is so relaxing to watch the cars stroll by and feel the August breeze as it wisps through the wind chimes. Relaxing is something that we don’t get to do too often anymore, because let’s face it being the parents of a three and one year old can really kick your butt. The kids are well behaved for the most part, and they really enjoy the porch and being outside too. I mean I’d take any break that I can from them causing havoc in this tiny of house of ours.

Our house resides in South Medford over on Stanley Ave, which is a nice area, accessible to anything and everything. However, one thing that our neighborhood is lacking are children around the same age as mine. The family that lives next door has three kids and they are really good with mine; but their youngest son is eight and that’s a lifetime difference for my three-year-old daughter. My father, who lives in a house a couple down from ours, tells me that the family moving in across the street from us today, has two kids. Fingers crossed that they are the same age as mine! It would be so nice to schedule play dates for the kids without having to drive all the way to Reading and Wilmington.

The August air is crisp and soothing. My one-year-old son sits on my lap watching the flag hanging off the porch sway with the steady breeze. It is such a nice day out. My husband sits in a chair across the porch, just taking in the beauty of it all. And my daughter sits at the foot of the steps, her little white Velcro sneakers rest evenly against the sidewalk, with her favorite picture book open in her lap. We are so content.

Small conversation flows between us, cars pass us by, and we offer friendly greetings to our neighbors that are out on strolls. Some time passes before a moving truck squeals around the corner of our street. Our heads turn and our attention is drawn as the truck pulls up to the curb. Movers pop out of the truck and shuffle around as they devise a plan to get all the furniture and belongings into the vacant house. They move smoothly and precise, yet casually and comfortable. Within seconds a small family car pulls into the driveway. I see my daughter look up from her book and she starts to attentively watch the sudden commotion.

My father piers out from his house and heads down the street until he reaches the foot of the new neighbors’ driveway. He greets a mid-thirties man with a handshake. I watch the conversation unfold with many exchanging of smiles, words, and gestures of my father pointing to his own house. They shake hands once more, before they go their separate ways. My Father crosses the street and is headed towards us.

“Hi kids!” He exclaims as he rests his hand on the end of the railing.

“Hi Dad!” I reply, “What’s going on over there?”

“New family moving in from Somerville! They seem like nice people. Two daughters, a new born and one the same age as Ally.” With the mention of her name, my daughter’s head turns and looks up at her grandfather, as it has become clear that interest has sparked in her little blue eyes.

A woman, about my age, appears out of the driveway holding a baby carrier with a sleeping new born in it. A little girl in a light green dress follows her mother’s shadow as she skips closely behind. The woman waves over to us and we return one. My father looks down at my daughter and says, “What are you up to today, Ally?”

She looks away from the house, that has so suddenly caught all of her attention and replies in the sweetest most innocent way she possibly could have, “Waiting to meet my best friend.”

A smile brightens across my father’s face and as if it were contagious, I feel the same for mine. In that very moment I knew that this was going to be a good thing for us; that on a day that we seemed to have done nothing at all, we would remember it for years to come.

Eighteen years later, my daughter and the little girl that moved in across the street are still very close. On that August day in 1998, they started a friendship that truly is special, that essentially is for a lifetime and that has built countless memories and will remain forever.