My husband’s cousin came to stay.
Perhaps I seem old-fashionedmaybe things have changed nowbut I just can’t bring myself to believe thats true.
My mother never said, When you visit relatives, dont forget to bring a gift. She didnt teach me that. Yet its always felt like common sense to me. Im not sure where it comes fromperhaps from stories I read, films I watched, or the little rituals I picked up from theatre visits.
On Saturday, my husbands cousin came over. He was in town for his uncles funeralnot from our side of the family, mind you.
Wed been asked in advance if we could put them up for the night, and we agreed without hesitation. We wanted to do the right thing and told them not to worry about a thing.
They arrived that eveningthree of them altogether, including their son and daughter-in-law. Id prepared a proper dinner, roasted a whole tray of meat, and made plenty of fresh salads. We sat together, raised a glass to old times and seeing one another again after so long. Later, I sorted out beds for everyone, and in the morning, laid out breakfastsandwiches, tea, coffee.
They set off for the funeral. When they returned, they stayed for a bit longer before heading home.
On the surface, all seemed fine. But they arrived empty-handednot so much as a bottle of wine for us.
My husbands late father was that cousins godfather, and his wifemy mother-in-lawstill lives with us. The cousin knew this. Honestly, were not struggling, but he might have brought the old dear a box of chocolates at least. She was waiting for thatshe spent all Saturday gazing out the window, secretly hoping. When they finally left, I noticed shed wiped away a tear; she was truly touched just that theyd come.
Thats what I would have done.
To begin with, Id have brought along some winemore than just a bottle or two. The children and the older guests would have received sweets, maybe even a small keepsake or thoughtful token. I would have thought carefully about who might like what, and chosen gifts accordingly.
Id have brought my own bedding, too, just so I wasnt making extra trouble for my hosts.
Its not as though theyre struggling for moneyif they were, Id understand. This cousin seldom visits, and always turns up empty-handed. It was the same before: he once had a work trip and stayed over from Sunday to Mondayagain, he brought nothing.
All the while, he would regale me with tales about all the fish he and his mates have caught latelyhow many, what kind, and so on. Secretly, Id have loved if he had brought even just one along.
Truly, I never mind the food or drink when were hosting, but I just cant shake the unpleasant feeling. Its as if Ive been taken advantage of.
And really, it happens every single timeAnd yet, after they were gone and the dishes were done, a hush settled over the house. My mother-in-law sat by the window, still, the sunlight just touching her silver hair. In that gentle quiet, I found myself remembering my own mother, long gone nowhow fiercely shed insisted, Hospitality is a gift you give yourself, not a debt others owe you. At the time, Id rolled my eyes. But now, clearing away the last cup, I felt something shift.
I looked out over the garden, where the cousins son had left a football half-buried in the flowerbedsa small, unexpected marker of their visit. I realized it would be easy to dwell on what shouldve been brought, each missing token a tally in my mind. Maybe it was time to set those weights down. The laughter from the night before echoed faintly in the hall, mingling with the traces of perfume and the crumpled sheets in the guest room.
My mother-in-law caught my eye. She smiledsmall, stubborn, but real.
Next time, I said, pouring us both a fresh cup of tea, lets ask them to bring us stories instead.
We sipped in companionable silence, the sharpness in me dissolving into something softer. After all, some gifts arrive unwrapped, and some kindness is simply in the welcoming. As the rain began to tap at the window, I realized I was already looking forward to the next visitbearing nothing but ourselves, and letting that, just maybe, be enough.
