an ode

After graduation from university this spring I got to take a mini-road trip to visit family in N. & S. Dakota. Since that time I have often thought of the few days spent with my cousin Anduin and her husband Ryan in Grand Forks as a beautiful example of hospitality. When I arrived they verbalized that they were happy to have me in their home, and that I was to make myself comfortable with them. And they meant it. And they offered amenities that made me want to cozy up and settle in: crisp sheets that had not yet become covered with the lint-balls of old age, a big clean towel, good coffee in the morning and interesting types of cheese. Aside from the time I spent enjoying their house, they also asked me to enter life with them. I went to a work lunch and conference get-together with Anduin, exercised with her at the local YMCA, grocery shopped, watched her perform in a local production of "Five Women Wearing the Same Dress", and was even allowed to make two of my gastronomic specialties (omelettes and portabello mushroom sandwiches) for them. Where this hospitality experience started to excel was with the fine balance my cousins took in engaging me but also giving me space. I was allowed to sleep late in the morning, take long bike rides around town, and stay up late whapping away at my typewriter in their living room. I was engaged, I was learning about their lives, but I was also able to rest. Most important to this visit, though, was how much my presence felt appreciated. I was not treated as a formality who got in the door by virtue of our family tree, but as an old friend. We sat at the table for hours after dinner talking, and my cousins asked interesting questions about my life and my opinions. The day I left Anduin took the morning off of work to stay and sit with Ryan and I in the living room, spending the morning on conversation instead of on her demanding work duties. Hopefully when I left they felt a portion of the encouragement from me that I had received from them. As I picked up my sister from Vagar airport last week I bounced in the driver's seat of my van from excitement, because finally I get the chance to work out hospitality under my own roof. I have stayed with friends, family and strangers alike all over the globe, and I have seen it done very well and very badly. Now I get to start paying forward the debts I have accumulated, one couch at a time, from all of the people who have opened up their homes to me A prior relationship and a little extra time and cash smooth the hospitality process, but the crux is being genuinely interested in the people staying under your roof. And the good cheese is disproportionately important. -a