Grateful for Neighbors

Our cute next door neighbor, Leo, grows peonies every year. His house used to be his parents and peonies were his mom's favorite flowers. He keeps them up for her because she made him promise he'd take some to her grave each Memorial Day. And he's never missed a year. His whole side strip is covered in bushes. They are one of my favorite things to look forward to each spring. He insists on me picking a bouquet and I'm happy to oblige. I'm not sure that I've ever talked about him before. He's probably about 85, twice divorced with no biological kids and such a sweet dear man. He grew up in Utah, worked in the mines at at Kennecott and never had any interest in the church. Has the biggest, kindest heart and always brings in our garbage cans. Loves talking with my children and treats them like real people. Whenever I complain about how hard parenting is he smiles and says, "The first 100 years are the hardest." He has unending patience and always a kind word. He loves to joke around with me and Jared and loves to give us yard tips. He has a dog named Barney that the kids play with every day.

I'm grateful for dear neighbors today.