I come from a long line of visitors. In my youth, my family would drop by relatives and friends houses to visit. The elders would talk, the kids would play. Cake, coffee, and snacks would appear. I always felt welcomed.
Many times my Uncle Jerry stopped by our house on his way home from work. To this day, I can see him sitting with my father having a beer as my mother prepared dinner. The three of them would visit. Prior to walking through the door, my uncle did not call, plan, or make his intentions to visit known. He simply showed up.
While in Chicago, I always visited my Aunt Jean who was housebound. No matter how much time I had, we used it well. I think she liked my visits because they brought more of the outside world in. Although I was competing with romance novels, I’m certain my life stories added actual flavor to her life.
I still enjoy visiting. On Thursday, I dropped in on a friend. After he peeked out the door, he smiled and said, “Hold on a sec, I’m in my shorts, I need to throw on some clothes.” I planned to stay for no more than an hour. Two hours later, he was still laughing and sharing with me. He fed me, shared quotes, spoke of the good and bad in his life. We visited, which feels like a lost art.
Visiting has always given me pleasure. It’s great to see people and have some time with them without a grand plan. These days it’s become harder to visit as everyone is so busy. Social media is a visitings place for some. But nothing is better than sitting with someone face to face and visiting. I guess I’m just old school. I still write letters and send cards via snail mail. I can’t tell you how many people appreciate that communication. I don’t know about you but I’ll keep visiting, it suits me just fine. Be well… Nancy T