The Golden Rule Made Easy

By Michael Patrick O’Brien–

I have so much love for my neighbors that I am sorely tempted to commit an act of extreme and violent vandalism on the front yard of their home. I want to remove and destroy the “For Sale” sign they placed there recently.

We first met the Ulibarri family, who live just up the street from us in Cottonwood Heights, almost three decades ago when we bought our home nearby. One day, shortly after we moved in, my wife Vicki told me, “I met the nicest woman just a few houses away…” The rest is, as the saying goes, history.

Marylynn Ulibarri and Vicki went through two simultaneous pregnancies together, producing five different children: Nate and our Megan now both 25; and twins Madison and Marissa and our Danny, now all 22. Add into the mix our older daughter Erin (now 29)—and the fact they all went to school together—and what do you get? A series of memorable car pool rides, birthday parties, family picnics, homework bailouts, school events, and you-won’t-believe-what-my-child-did-today conversations. I thought it would last forever.

Someone once quipped that family isn’t just a matter of blood. It’s true. We’ve had a life changing roller coaster ride with our family of choice—Rich and Marylynn Ulibarri and their children. And like any good roller coaster, this one included some spectacular loops, turns, ups, and downs.

The Book of Ecclesiastes states, “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven,” including birth, death, planting, reaping, tearing down, building up, silence, speech, mourning, and dancing. Add in a few Notre Dame football games, Utah football tailgaters, Judge Memorial High School activities, and St. Vincent’s School events, and you’ve captured the essence of the Ulibarri/O’Brien relationship.

Like any family, we know each other’s secrets. We know why Marylynn banned Rich from drinking whiskey. We also know why she sat by him at Utah football games…let’s just say it was to filter/temper his “verbal enthusiasm” for the refs. And we know that the supposedly-blind Ulibarri dog Max…the one who managed to escape from their home/yard numerous times and navigate the entire neighborhood by himself…really was the most visually-acute blind animal in canine history

Like any family, we accept each other’s eccentricities. The Ulibarris know that, every once in a while, our son Danny and his friends will hog tie one of their buddies and leave the poor bloke on the Ulibarri front porch. To this day, I am mystified that the Ulibarri girls still laugh at ALL of Danny’s jokes. The Ulibarris also know, firsthand, that I am very good at breaking, and terrible at fixing, things around the house. Rich learned this lesson the hard way when he let me “help” him make the poker table that I tricked him into building for a school auction project. My help set him back at least several hours.

Like any family, we know each other’s alarm codes. We have a key to their house, and they have one to our home. When our kids started riding bikes and scooters, the Ulibarri house up the street was the outside boundary for treks. Whenever an O’Brien child was AWOL, I knew a call to Rich and Marylynn would solve the case. Any why not? Our favorite berries always have been Ulibarris.

Like any family, we have each other’s backs. Marylynn the realtor helped Erin and her husband Adam buy two homes. My law partner Matt Mitton did the Ulibarri estate plan. And who did we call on a chilly fall night in 2012 when a home-alone-Megan reported a prowler stalking our house? We were far away, driving home from a high school football game in Eastern Utah, and so we called Rich and Nate Ulibarri. They answered the call of duty. Thankfully, the scoundrel had absconded before Rich and his son arrived. Thus, they were not put in harm’s way, unless you count a pumped-up Megan wielding her brother’s lacrosse stick.

And like any family, we have wept together. They helped us through Vicki’s breast cancer treatment and the loss of two of our beloved parents. We prayed and hoped with them when the twin Ulibarri daughters were born tiny, and several weeks premature, and spent weeks in a newborn ICU. We also have encouraged and supported each other through various and sundry child illnesses, personal setbacks, and economic downturns.

Then there was that awful morning in July 2013. Marylynn called. She told me Rich was going to the hospital after collapsing during a bike ride, and asked me to bring their children there. We rushed over, and I waited nervously with the extended family. I will never forget the doctor reporting the crushing news that Rich did not survive a massive heart attack. Our neighborly love has been a mere band-aid on that grievous, gaping wound.

To this day—as I drive down our shared street past their red brick house—I expect, hope, and pray to see what I saw so many times before and took for granted…Rich standing on the front lawn, waving, laughing his loud infectious laugh, and shouting, “Hi Mike!”

Now, seven years later, a courageous Marylynn has guided the wonderful Ulibarri kids into fine Ulibarri adults—finished with or finishing college and launching off on their own. Rich would be…is…so proud. Despite the memories of the happy street and the beloved home where she has lived for 30 years, Marylynn and her new energetic puppy dog Teddy just don’t need the big house anymore. It’s time for a new smaller place, for new adventures, and to create new memories. To everything there is a season.

Thus, I find that loathsome sign in their front lawn, the one I want to tear down. But I won’t. I know neighbors don’t need to live on the same street. Better yet, I understand that family finds a way to get together, even with increased geography between them.

I am a long-time admirer of the Golden Rule’s instruction that we should love our neighbors. And maybe it’s a hard rule to follow in some circumstances. As for the Ulibarris? Well, they made that the easiest command any O’Brien has ever had to keep.

*Mike O’Brien is a writer and attorney living in Salt Lake City, Utah. He is writing a book about growing up with the monks at the old Trappist monastery in Huntsville, Utah.