Chillin in Texas

A couple months ago as I contemplated my choices for Thanksgiving travel, I tapped my chin and thought, hmmm, who do I really WANT to see that I haven't seen in a while? My aunt Maryle came quickly to mind and it was no hard feat to decide to visit her in Houston.

I lived with her and Uncle Bob for a short time when I was trying to get as far away from Indiana as possible and yet stay in the continental 48 and they were really sweet to me during a difficult time.  The last time I saw my aunt was at my uncle's funeral almost two years ago.

Plus, it was uncomplicated.  We like each other, both enjoy churchy things and the food is always awesome.

My vacation actually felt like a vacation.  I slept, ate, visited with my aunt and various cousins, went to daily Mass and even a bible study one night.  I did a wee bit of running so the pecan pie would not catch up to me.  Saw Anna Karenina.  Other than daily Mass, I never really had to be anywhere at any set time, and for a person whose life is chronically over scheduled, that was a huge huge vacation in itself.  (Plus, my aunt is very good at spoiling me!)

My lungs even got a vacation being at a lower altitude, and my hair was its wild curly self.  Ahhh, humidity, thy name is Houston!

Someone once said hospitality is about making people feel comfortable, and making room for them to be themselves.  It is making space for people, not just physically, but mentally.  My brain, always spinning with the next thing to do, work to accomplish, project to finish, responsibility to take care of and strategy to plan, got to take a bit of a break and could just be, with nothing more important to decide than what sounded good for lunch.

There's a verse in Hebrews about entertaining strangers because you may be entertaining angels unawares.  Well, I'm no stranger, and my aunt is well aware I am no angel.  Sometimes that can be the hardest thing about company, knowing them!

But, whether I was 5 and crawling into bed with her when her family visited us in South Bend, or 25 and needing a soft place to land, or 42 and just missing a wee bit of mothering, all she has ever shown me is love, and this Thanksgiving, she holds my greatest gratitude.