A little over a year ago a group of people from the neighborhood met in our living room to dream about what our neighborhood could be. We dreamed about how neighbors could connect with neighbors, how neighbors could dream together, and how new things could emerge. It was a great dialog but honestly I don’t remember many specific things from it. The one thing I remember clearly is that after we had got to know each other, dreamed together, and decided that we’d each go back to our neighborhood in order to ‘make a difference’ Oso stood up and somewhat incredulously said “well that sucks. I just got to know all of you (few of us had ever met Oso before this night) and now we’re saying that I won’t see you again? That sucks. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want friends, I want more of this!”
Fast forward to yesterday when the group from our weekly Arnada Community Meal read blessings over Oso as he ate with us one last time before moving to Seattle. For nine months now we have been inviting people to eat together on Sunday afternoons. There’s no agenda, there’s no schedule, and no pressure on weekly attendance. From week to week you’re never quite sure who’ll be there or whether the food will be an epic success or an awkward failure. In general, however, 25-30 people drop by between noon and four and eat together. Oso has been a part of this group from the very beginning. I mean, this was what he was whining about on that evening of discussion so long ago!
It was beautiful to see some of that dreaming realized. It was beautiful to see how a bustling kitchen can be the perfect place for relationship to happen.
Oso, we’ll miss you’re claims of food superiority, we’ll miss you bringing your dog with you, and we’ll miss how you modeled what it looks like to center your life around the rhythms of a neighborhood.
May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
The rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand…even in Seattle