The Life That Is Really Life: Four Lessons My Neighbor Taught Me

Introduction: The Two Families Across the Street

Moving sucks. It’s an unsettling process of sorting through a life’s worth of accumulated stuff, forcing you to ask hard questions about what you truly value. But sometimes, in the midst of the chaos, you uncover a forgotten treasure—a memento that takes you back to a special place, with special people who loved you into being.

For me, that treasure was a small pink square suitcase with a dancing duck on top. Unearthing it from a cardboard box unlocked a flood of memories from my childhood, all centered on a single journey. It was the suitcase I packed every Friday, starting at age three, as I stood at the end of my driveway and crossed the street from my house at 1014 West 30th to my “other family’s” house at 1015 West 30th.

My biological family at 1014 West 30th was deeply religious, but in a way that felt constricting and judgmental. We were defined by what we refrained from: dancing, drinking, gambling, cussing, or listening to too much Elvis Presley—or as my uncle, a Baptist preacher, called him, “the wiggleworm from hell.” It was all meant to keep our souls from being corrupted.

But directly across the street lived the Bartos family. They were just as devout, but their Eastern European Catholic faith manifested in a home overflowing with what I can only describe as abundance. Jesus was worshipped in both houses, but at 1015 West 30th, there was also bingo, bowling, and dancing in the living room. Hank, my “other father,” would smoke cigars and drink a mystery beverage he called Pearl, which he claimed came from a sacred well in Texas. They’d sing at Shaky’s pizza parlor and spend summers floating down a Texas river. It was there, not in a church pew, that I began to understand the key ingredients of a soulful life—what the Apostle Paul called "the life that really is life."

1. Know You Are Adopted and Beloved

The first ingredient of a soulful life is a profound, internal knowledge that you are valued, loved, and special. It’s a sense of belonging that anchors you. Years ago, a girlfriend asked me in a rare moment of clarity and incredulity, "who was it that told you when you were a little boy that you were so special?"

Without a moment's hesitation, I knew the answer. "Rosemary did. It's her fault."

Rosemary was my "other mother." More than all my Sunday school teachers combined, she was the one who taught me how valued I was in God's sight. She loved me into being. To have someone in your life who instills that certainty is a powerful gift. A soulful life begins when you truly know, deep within yourself, that you are loved, adopted, and welcomed as God's own.

2. Practice Radical Grace and Forgiveness

The second principle is not just about receiving grace, but actively extending it to others. Living with a grudge or a desire for retribution harms nobody but yourself. It traps you in a cycle of resentment and creates a kind of existence that is not life.

While I first learned this principle through the lived grace of my neighbors, I was reminded of its profound power by a story in the news just this past week. At her husband Charlie’s funeral, a woman named Erica Kirk spoke about the young man who had killed him. In a statement that shocked many, she said:

I forgive him. I forgive him because it's what Christ did.

Her words were a profound witness to a simple truth: the answer to hate is not more hate. It is love, always. Choosing to forgive, to release others from the debt we feel they owe us, is a cornerstone of living soulfully.

3. Live with a Generous Heart

The third ingredient is living with a generous heart that is always aware of the needs of others. The Bartos home was a masterclass in this. While cookies were forbidden in my house, Rosemary kept three jars on a bottom shelf that even a three-year-old could reach.

This spirit of generosity extended far beyond their front door. I fondly remember a daily ritual. Every evening around suppertime, Rosemary would pick up her rotary phone and call her neighbor, Maren, who was in poor health. Maren’s husband, Tommy, was a trucker who was always gone, always on the road, which deepened her isolation. I can still hear Rosemary’s voice: "Moren, this is Rosemary. Meet me at the fence."

Rosemary would then walk to the side fence and hand over an extra plate of food she had prepared just for her neighbor. The Bartos family was not wealthy, but they taught me that a rich life has nothing to do with money. It's defined by what you share. When bad news would appear on the television—war, injustice, or suffering—Rosemary wouldn't despair. She would turn to me and ask, "how we could help, Billy?"

4. Chase Questions, Not Just Answers

The final lesson is that a soulful life is less about having all the right answers and more about asking the truly important questions. My "other father," Hank, was a man of great wisdom who listened more than he spoke. And Rosemary, rather than giving me direct answers, would encourage me to ask "even better, deeper questions."

She taught me that truth is not a doctrine to be memorized, but a treasure each of us must discover for ourselves. A sign of her deep spiritual life was her ability to change her mind, to evolve. She understood that faith wasn't about being stuck in one place, but about embarking on a journey. As Rabbi Abraham Hessel beautifully put it:

...faith is not to cling desperately to a shrine, but it is an endless pilgrimage of the heart.

A soulful life embraces this pilgrimage. It remains open, curious, and humble enough to keep seeking.

Conclusion: Finding Your Own Forgotten Treasure

The lessons I learned across the street at 1015 West 30th have shaped my entire life. They are the four pillars of a soulful existence: knowing you are beloved, practicing radical forgiveness, living with a generous heart, and embracing questions over answers.

That small, pink suitcase with the dancing duck on top now sits in my new home, a reminder that the most valuable things in life often aren't things at all, but the lessons and love given to us by others—treasures of the soul.

What forgotten treasures are waiting to be uncovered in your own life, perhaps inspired by the "other family" you once knew across the street?