I’m a couple of days late, but who can tell when inspiration will strike?
Five Minute Friday is an amazing group of writers who band together every week to write for five minutes on a one word prompt given by our leader, Lisa-Jo Baker. If you want to play along, all the deets are here: http://www.lisajobaker.com
I have a houseful of people here this morning and I’m serving canned cinnamon rolls for breakfast. And that’s OK, because I’d much rather “visit” with them then spend my time in the kitchen cooking breakfast. Cooking for friends and family is a kind of love, that’s true, but right now I want to show a different kind of love.
I grew up right here in the South and have lived here all my life. When I was a little girl, my parents would often take me out on occasional “visits” with them. (I was an only child so I got dragged a lot of places we probably wouldn’t have gone if I was one of two or more kids) And when we got to whatever home we were going to, we would then sit and “visit”.
There’s probably a better term for it, but “visit” meant that they sat and talked. In the same room. Made eye contact. Connected. Shared what was happening in their lives. Laughed together. Cried and prayed together. In modern parlance, they were “present”.
I’ve been on longer visits to homes (and sadly hosted a few) where the household’s daily rhythm didn’t change. The guests were just spectators to a show that didn’t even take an intermission to acknowledge their presence. And while that may make the company feel like they’re part of the family, I think it defeats the purpose of a visit. I think you go to be with people in order to actually be with them, not just pass by them in the hallway.
So if you come to my Southern home to visit me, don’t expect a meal from a Top Chef winner. I’d rather spend my time sitting with you on my couch, so you can truly say you’ve had a “visit”.