Debbie Croft: Friends and summer road trips

This week I’m in Arizona, vacationing in the Valley of the Sun. And writing amid oven-hot days and seasonal monsoon storms.

If I could send California some of this rain, I would. I miss my green lawn and hydrangea bushes – all, unsuspecting victims of the drought.

I haven’t seen my mom and siblings in over a year. And none of us are getting any younger. I’ve been told, company is like fish – after three days it starts to smell. Maybe. But I think it depends on the company.

Hospitality is a lost art. You know, this ancient tradition of welcoming overnight guests. On some trips our family stays in hotels. But we enjoy having people in our home, and some of our friends feel the same way.

So, this week I’ve been staying with friends and family. (My mom said to say hi.)

It’s a luxury having time to chat over breakfast, to hang out together after an afternoon shopping at thrift stores.

No matter how expensive or inexpensive the home décor is, regardless if the neighborhood is older or new, somehow we always manage to do most of our visiting in the kitchen. Congregating around the food, the conversations can continue long past bedtime. I prefer getting to know the people I love on this personal level, where they live. And I want them to know me where I live (preferably when my house is clean).

But maybe that’s one reason we don’t invite people over as much as we could. The house is a mess, the laundry is threatening to avalanche, or the litter box smells.

Or maybe we ran out of food and haven’t had a chance to choose recipes and decide on a menu, and go to the grocery store to shop and bring food home and put it away, and then combine all those lovely ingredients into something enticing and comforting and delicious. On the wall in one home I stayed in, I read this: Friends bring out the beautiful things in each other that no one else looks hard enough to find. This kind of looking, though, requires time. Time spent together.

Most of my friends in Phoenix are either in the ministry or very much involved with their churches. Between working and raising families, their busy lives are filled with serving people – some they’re related to and some not. In homes that at times are as neglected as mine.

At times I notice spots on the countertops or tile, stained grout, even stained carpet, smudges around doorknobs and cabinet knobs, lint or crumbs along the baseboards, papers piled and junk drawers full of rubber bands and coupons and who knows what else.

While listening to everyday conversations as they juggle appointments and errands, chauffeuring kids or grandkids around town, I see the same struggles and adjustments you and I and most Americans face. In watching and listening, I learn.

Lunch dates and late night talks with girlfriends are my favorite part. Next to seeing my kids’ friends all grown up with work and school and starting families of their own.

So, what’s the point?

First, for summer road trips, take an audio book along for the drive. (And snacks, of course!) It’s a great way to pass the time when driving alone. And an opportunity for meaningful dialogue when traveling with others.

Ask questions about the faces in the photos on your friends’ walls, on the mantle, the tabletops and dresser tops.

Always accept a hug, even if you think you might see the person again.

And wherever you go, however long you’re there, make room in your life for developing close friends. Do the things you love doing together. Spend time in each others’ homes. And talk and laugh, ask questions, share new experiences and rehearse old memories, and enjoy getting to know each other better.

Because you never know when you’ll see them again.

This story was originally published August 13, 2015 at 8:46 PM with the headline "Debbie Croft: Friends and summer road trips."