The Five-Day Houseguest

We’ve hosted many houseguests through the years, but this occurred under unusual circumstances. MC and I had been dear friends for about thirty-five years, until about seven years ago. She was one of the three who rejected me in the middle of my Camino walk. Since then, we’d had some communication, but minimal, and no visits. Nevertheless, when she emailed me about six weeks ago and asked if she could visit me, I unhesitatingly said ‘yes,’ trusting in our earlier experiences of each other. Before she reserved her flight from Pittsburgh, she checked with me to ask if she could stay for five days. I answered, ‘yes,’ without reservation.

Describing the fun we had with our multiple excursions will be the easy part; describing the discussions we had about our earlier ‘miscommunications’ is the challenging part of this essay. So, let me begin with the easy. In a handwritten note weeks in advance, MC let me know that she was interested in spending time in Salem to capture its Halloween scene, plus visiting the PEM, the Isabella Stuart Gardner Museum, the MFA, and visiting Crane Beach. I wasn’t sure we could fit it all in. Additionally, I avoid Salem, even driving through it, in October.

I had already committed to two other activities with friends, which MC was also interested in attending. One occurs 3-4 times each year at a friend’s home, a chamber music concert with world-class musicians and about fifty guests. The other, at another friend’s home, is a gathering of eight of us to listen to a reading of Dante’s Divine Comedy. We meet once a week for two hours, tea, and snacks, listening for about an hour, then break for discussion. MC was interested in both, so I secured permission in advance from my friends for her presence, which they welcomed.

Now for the more difficult exchange. It was only the day before her arrival that I became anxious, wondering what she might say, also wondering how we could spend five days together with unease between us. I picked her up at Logan and quickly approached the topic directly. I don’t remember any exact words, but it was clear that she valued our past relationship too much to allow it to end. We shared mutual appreciation for both initiating and accepting this five-day encounter.

She and Paul were old friends, too, and clearly were glad to see each other when we arrived home. We never had any difficulty finding topics of mutual interest or of being silent together. After describing some of the multiple restaurants that surround us, we chose a local seafood place, the Anchor, where she could get lobster, planning for fried clams on the next day.

My plan for Salem was that we would take the train, a five-minute ride, to avoid driving in Salem. To my surprise, the local garage by the train station was completely filled, even at 9 am! So, against my better judgement, I drove to Salem, where I easily parked. When he headed for the PEM, we bumped into my friend, Kenneth, who gives 2 1/2 hour walking tours. We had thought we might do that tour the next day. However, seizing the chance, I asked if he had room for two more on today’s tour. He did, and we had the best time learning about Salem’s history, delivered with humor and knowledge. PEM was postponed until the next day, when we visited exhibits randomly, including their new bat exhibit. There, I learned how much false information filled my head about bats. I think much more kindly about them now, now that I have the facts.

One of my plans, organized only two days before, was a peace rally for Palestine, scheduled in Salem for 5:30 pm. MC passed on this activity, opting instead for a beer at Roosevelt’s, while I rallied at Riley Plaza, just down the street, followed by a march to our Congressman’s office. This was a good example of how our plans did not always match, yet we made them work for both of us. MC is a good person, good from the inside out, not ostentatious, but solid.

On Saturday, we visited the Gardner Museum, with its new exhibit, Inventing Isabella, which provided extensive background information about that extraordinary woman. We especially enjoyed our lunch there, with a dessert embellished with cardamom cream. On Sunday, after Quaker Worship, which MC had specifically asked to attend, Paul chauffeured us through the North Shore, through the leaves and by the beaches, to a seafood lunch in Gloucester. After Quaker Worship, MC, a recently retired physician, graciously responded knowledgeably and modestly to medical questions from two Friends.

Each night, we went to bed early, exhausted by our activities and conversation. Each morning, we had a leisurely breakfast, often accompanied by a cappuccino courtesy of Paul. Our days were full and rich. Our last morning, I attended my usual water aerobics class at the Y, while MC slept in. Our last excursion, en route to the airport, was a a stop at a quilt shop in Wakefield that MC had discovered. She had recently started to learn quilting and this shop was a treasure, with incredibly helpful staff. My awareness of the skill needed in quilting increased dramatically. At the airport, saying good by, we agreed that it will not be another seven years until we meet again.