I have lived in mum’s gentrified, adorable, PNW town for six years. Besides being her caregiver, I have had jobs working at a hotel, cleaning houses, and pet sitting. I haven’t met a lot of people but I took some creative writing classes and swam at the local pool (lap swimmers are very unfriendly). I was hurt when mum died and the only people who called to offer sympathy were two of her old local friends. I am grateful that my old friends called from around the country. No one that I had met in this quaint, almost all white bread, politically correct, GMO sensitive town felt the need to call. They are so aware here, they are too correct.
Here is one example of my limited exchange with “my” community.
For almost four years I have known a couple in town that I once worked for as their housekeeper, I have babysat their animal, I have the keys to their house even though I no longer houseclean for them, I have the keys because they have been known to call me up to check on house, animal whatever. I have had Thanksgiving dinner with them, the wife and I have girl dinners together. I am a Facebook friends with both of them so they could read about what I am up too. The husband calls me up to ask me for some help (they always pay generous) and during our conversation after I assure him I would be happy to take care of his concerns he says to me “I hear your mom died, were you close?” My heart skipped a beat and I’m sure my face turned bright red (good thing we were talking on the phone) as I replied “Yes we were, I’ve been her caregiver for the last six years, that is why I moved here.” With no hesitation he goes back to talking about his problems. My town. Am I concerned he might see this? Not really, I doubt he would even think I was talking about him.
The Buzzy Donahue Show 