Faith,  Grief,  Neighbors

A Neighborhood Divided: Years of Friends, Months of Loss, Weeks of Grief

When we moved out of Baja and back to Cali, I wasn’t what you’d call… excited. Besides the whole experience feeling anti-climactic (we already lived in SoCal once), track houses aren’t really my jam.

Apparently, the neighborhood cookie-cutter fairy put all of our floor plans on a blueprint and the creativity stopped after five. Five similar shapes, five coordinating paint schemes, and that was it. 

Match-y match-y ain’t my style. Plus, I didn’t see a whole lot of ministry taking place between getting the mail and pulling in trashcans.

I don’t mean to sound like a whiner. I’m truly grateful for Model #3 to call home and know millions around the world would die for an opportunity to have this much space. 

But in all honesty, I thought living in the forest… or on a small farm… or in an old historic house with rattling pipes… or something more rustic… would be so much cooler than the land of concrete and stucco.

But this is where God clearly opened doors and had us land. So I sought contentment and looked for ways to settle in. The closest thing to be a part of was our neighborhood, so I started there.

Knock-Knock, Ding-Dong

My first experience in meeting our new neighbors didn’t come by standing in our driveway and waiting for someone to emerge; I would’ve been waiting for hours days. It came when I passed out invitations house-to-house with the woman next door.

Twenty-one times we knocked on doors, rang bells, and invited strangers to a BBQ. Some were timid, some excited, all curious, but the experience taught me a couple things: 

  • Humans are weird.
  • Everyone likes to be invited. 

The turnout was mediocre, but rich conversation flowed and strangers connected. For the past three years we’ve repeated the trend: invite, chat, eat, bond. 

No, we’re not all best friends. But of the eight families we know the best, picking up groceries, carpooling, mowing, listening, and exercising together has become the norm. We also watch out for each other’s kids, have driveway dinners, dog sit, buy fundraiser goods, celebrate new babies, and welcome visiting family. 

We’ve walked with each other through the surprising loss of jobs, the extreme loss of motivation, and the heartbreaking loss of pets.

And then we lost a human.

December 2020

A girl with special needs three doors down, who dealt with persistent aspirating, had an episode too violent for anyone to save her. And just like that, she was gone before we saw the ambulance out front. 

And suddenly, our street felt dark.

Two weeks later, a kind man, five doors down (barely middle age), laid in a hospital bed and fought Covid over Christmas. His wife and kids couldn’t see him, near the end they couldn’t talk, and then he died… alone.

And then last month… a funny guy, the neighborhood walker, straight outta Brooklyn with gold chains to prove it, got sick and died before we even noticed he wasn’t walking anymore.

I can still hear his thick New York accent. “How you doin’?”

Last week I texted another neighbor directly across the street. Her boyfriend got Covid a month ago and fought hard. “Hey there. Ed still fightin’ strong?”

She texted back immediately. “Unfortunately not. He passed last night.”

Okay, Lord… I’m Listening.

What do you want me to do? How do you want me involved? How can I comfort, encourage, listen?

“Loving your neighbor as yourself” in Matthew 22:37 isn’t just a suggestion. It’s actually a command.

And let’s be real… understanding that string of five words doesn’t exactly require a Ph.d. Jesus basically told us to figure out how we want to be treated and then do the same to others. 

What does this look like though? To treat others with respect, yes. To give more unconditional love, of course. 

But how does it tangibly look? To show up with treats? To mow someone’s grass? To be an inviter? To pull in trashcans?

Yeah—go do things like that.

These decisions shouldn’t produce a bunch of stress though. Trying to figure out if your co-worker prefers banana bread over pumpkin bread and then worrying you chose the wrong one? I get it; my brain works like that too. 

Let’s not go there. If someone showed up with a baked goodie just for you, would it matter if it wasn’t your fave? No, you’d probably just be stoked that they thought of you.

Would you like it if someone sent you a sympathy card when you lose a family member? Then do that for someone else. Would a meal take a load off your plate? Take a load off someone else’s.

How would you feel if you drove in your driveway to trimmed shrubs? A mowed lawn? Raked leaves? A bag of groceries? Has a neighbor ever offered to pick up something at the store for you? It feels amazing! Go do the same. 

Our New Normal

Is it normal to lose four neighbors in nine months? I guess it depends where you live. But this is all new for our little suburban street in SoCal, and we barely know what to do. This next-level loss caught us all off guard.

These neighbors who lost family members have had their homes divided. They gained an empty seat at the table… an extra car in the garage… a void in the family.

Our neighborhood feels connected and divided all at the same time. And though I have zero clues about how they feel, I want to be a listener. And a learner. How can we be a light in their darkness?

Those who lose members of their families deal with so many aspects of pain and grief. But if they have intentional neighbors, loneliness doesn’t need to be so high on that list. So I write this to remind myself:

  • Knock on the door
  • Be okay with the awkward
  • Shut up and listen 

Have you lost a loved one lately? If so, I’m sorry for your loss. I pray you have neighbors who reach out. 

None of us ever know what’s coming tomorrow. May we all be the kind of people who step up and show compassion.

In memory of these souls:

  • Emily, 25
  • Mike, 52
  • Fred, 79
  • Ed, 54
Still can’t believe we’re missing 3 neighbors from this picture. Emily in wheelchair. Mike behind her. Ed in striped shorts. We miss you, amigos.

“Go often to the house of thy friend, for weeds choke the unused path.” -Ralph Waldo Emerson

“All will concede that in order to have good neighbors, we must also be good neighbors. That applies in every field of human endeavor.”  -Harry S. Truman

Know someone who might like this post? Don't hoard it like a secret family recipe, share it...


  • Valerie

    Oh Carrie, what difficult losses for you and your community to go through. I am so sorry, but also grateful that you had worked to connect people so they have some sense of place and people as they grieve.

    As usual – your writing is so wonderful!

    • Carrie Talbott

      Thank you, Val. You know firsthand what it feels like to be on the frontlines with hurting people. Most days I have no idea what to do, but we keep moving forward.

  • Annie

    Beautifully written! I was at a funeral yesterday for a young coworker that lost her mom to covid. It was the 3rd funeral this year for a family member of a coworker. It has been a tragically hard year. This last loss touched our school so greatly that we gathered to pray for this young teacher. My entire staff showed up, even the principal and custodian. We are a public school and when the hard hit we gathered as one to pray for our friend that was hurting. It was so moving. I’m so sorry for the loss you’ve experienced this year. Thank you for reminding others to keep knocking.

    • Carrie Talbott

      I’m so sorry your coworkers have lost so many family members. Very kind of you to be there to support them at the funerals. And how cool that your entire public school staff gathered to pray. So inspiring! You probably know my husband is a public school teacher again too, so we applaud you for being a bright light on your campus. Thanks for reading and commenting, Annie. Keep doing what you’re doing!

  • Marti

    Carrie, you beautifully expressed the heartbreak going on in many or our lives. Thank you for wisdom and insight beyond your years— and, by the way, your WAY WITH WORDS. I love you.❤️

    • Carrie Talbott

      I’ve said this before but I have no problem saying it again: you have the gift of encouragement! Thank you for your kind words, Marti.

  • Shelley

    I hadn’t read this when it first came across my feed; I read it this morning. Yesterday my friend lost her neighbor to Covid, a fellow mom with young kids. This is so timely as I help her walk this journey.
    This past July we finally met the neighbors 2 houses up. Our lots are spacious and though we knew there were kids there, we honestly hadn’t made the effort. My 9 year old finally dragged me there in July. “Mom, the dad’s outside, can we pleeeeease meet them?” It turned out they were switching schools in August to ours! We now carpool, exchange playdates and more. She has told me, “I was supposed to welcome the new neighbor, I’m sorry!” And I always reply that my feet were perfectly capable of walking and my hands of knocking. ????
    I’m sorry for your losses and all of the sorrow we are all experiencing. I’m glad we have the hope of heaven and I look forward to the day when all tears are wiped away.

    • Carrie Talbott

      I’m sorry your friend lost her neighbor. Way too common these days.
      So great that you made the effort to meet people even when you were the new ones. I fully understand that feeling! And how cool that your lives have meshed into a great relationship of helping one another! Thanks for reading, Shelley, and for your kind words.

  • Alyce Donahue

    Well said Carrie! You’ve done a great job with your neighbors. We purposed with this last move that we would get to know our neighbors. We’ve done that this time much better than before, but it’s still a challenge to talk Christianity. We try to socialize and build friendships. I always think of the statement “they don’t care what you know until they know that you care.” THAT keeps me going!

    • Carrie Talbott

      Thanks, Alyce. Socializing and building friendships is exactly what we’re doing. And yes… I love that quote! I think I’ll add that to my neighbor seminar I taught at Mount Hermon. Thanks for the reminder!

  • Sammy

    I really don’t want to sound like a broken record but I always get a few long lasting nuggets when I read your writings Carrie. “Gaining an empty seat at the table.. an empty parking spot in the garage… “ wow the imagery.

    • Carrie Talbott

      Thank you, Sammy. I learn/visualize better through word pictures, so I’m always trying to paint them for my readers.

  • Ron

    Carrie… Yes… life gets busy until… sickness…deaths…accident…tragedy…

    The abrupt silence that brings emptiness … I then sense the weeds in my path to family and friends mock my spirit…. too self focused….

    Lord forgive, yet help me to reactivate more fully the truth… faith by itself, without sharing, caring, reaching out, is dead.

    Help me to realize my feet as well as heart, are the forces to family, friends, someone you bring in my path in need that keeps the weeds never to see the sun in the path to share Your love to them.

    • Carrie Talbott

      My pleasure, David. Not to hit your heart square in the middle, but you know. I appreciate readers like you.

  • Vanessa

    Hi Carrie!

    I just love your writing. You speak from the heart. I love that you share with us your thoughts, struggles, and hopes.

    We are His instruments in any situation including, our neighborhoods.

    In my neighborhood, we have lost three wonderful souls since January. Two from cancer and the other Covid.

    Thank you for the reminder to take each day and share compassion and kindness with others!

    • Carrie Talbott

      I am so sorry that you lost three neighbors, Vanessa. Such a rough road to walk. Thank you for your kind words, and for reading.

  • Andrea Chatman

    I’m so sorry for your losses…

    I love the “Be okay with the awkward”. It is great advice. The world is scared and mourning…it feels like awkward is a daily thing. I try to love people when I just want to hide in my house because it hurts…but we weren’t called to easy we were called to love. Right?

  • Sue McCoy

    Such a great read.
    One if your best.
    Your writing always connects with me, with my heart.
    You are real… and I’m sure your neighbors feel the light of Jesus shining from model #3. ????❤️????

  • Debbie Wulff

    Carrie your words are always perfect and eloquent. And always can find a place within our hearts. Thank you for sharing your heart, the love of your neighborhood and even the loss. All help us to dig deeper towards the community that matters.

  • Brooke

    I’m so sorry for these losses Carrie, but I know they will bring you closer as neighbors and friends and God has you there for such a time as this.

    • Carrie Talbott

      Thanks, Brooke. Similar to your situation, I do feel like we’re here for such a time as this. Still trying to figure out exactly how that looks.