Guest Relations

Many businesses in the hospitality industry boast an Office of Guest Relations. The purpose of this entity is to ensure the comfort and satisfaction of customers, regardless of their requests. In truth, relations aren't always cordial or considerate. Guests are nearly always paying for services but all too often are disappointed, or worse, in what they receive.

Each month thus far in 2012, we have hosted visitors at our house. With schedules intricately coordinated, we've eagerly awaited all arrivals. Starting with a couple whom I've known since the 1960's, we've welcomed individuals who are interwoven into our history through blood or bonds of friendship. Bob, Davene, Dottie, Mike, Jackie, Bert, Nancy and Anne. All have been seated at our dining room table recently, creating new stories that we'll all remember for years to come.

I've said repeatedly that I want the people whom I love to live on my street. Because I realize such a concept is totally impractical and completely selfish, I'm generally able to embrace visits in place of permanent residency on Sunset Way.

For far too long, we've talked to Henry's sister Carol about escaping to our desert and bringing her husband, Steve.



Though I'm absolutely certain such a trip was highly desirable for both of them, life intervened to preclude the visit. So, we waited and reminded them of the invitation and waited some more. Our patience, or lack thereof, was grandly rewarded when dates were finally set for early April 2012. Not only would we be welcoming the New York residents but also their son and his family from the Bay area. Such largesse.



To make the gathering even more a family occasion, Caitlin and Bobby chose the same time period for a spring sojourn, bringing along two Portland friends. This is much more than we could have wished.

Within a period of seven days (all flitting past too quickly), we successfully dyed Easter eggs, hid the colored gems, assembled at the family table for an Easter meal, dined at several restaurants, walked the neighborhood accompanied by a spectacular fireworks display, sought medical advice for a pesky ankle (Steve),



chose new quilts for the second guest bedroom, laughed long while attempting to control a race car video game (Carol),



enjoyed a sextet serenade,



splashed in the hotel pool while creating a new wet hairstyle for Grammie Carol, and listened intently to Henry's multiple teaching sessions on the intricacies of municipal bonds (Carol and Steve.)

Repetitive household chores proved almost fun with two ladies working harmoniously to finish them with dispatch. Deftly balancing the agendas of six adults and two little girls, we quickly internalized the 'gift' of togetherness.

The east coast accents surrounded our days and nights and every once in a while, I found myself thinking, "This is very, very special. Family is, after all, what really matters in this world." I am completely certain that if I had met Carol and Steve at about the same time as I became acquainted with Henry, I would have married him even sooner. Having these two exceptional people as an integral part of my life for the last thirty-five years has brought me strength in difficult moments, solace when I needed reflection, humor to laugh at myself in stressful situations, and abiding affection that is unassailable.

Our house is not the same. It is less festive, too quiet. I look at my calendar and it appears vapid, colorless. The guests are gone. Soon we too will go visiting. With us we'll carry beloved faces and the cherished memories recently created. These relations matter. A lot.