The first night, she and I went to their club for dinner, after which we went to a supermarket because my friend needed some things for herself. I realized that if I wanted breakfast or a glass of wine, I needed to buy it.
I try to be a generous and easy guest, so I picked up the tab at the supermarket (yes, I even bought rubber gloves for my friend, among other things!).
I’m sorry I didn’t do a complete scouring of their pantry, because when you might expect to be offered some noshes before dinner, she offered nothing. I found myself scrounging in their closet for something to eat.
My friend does have severe Crohn’s disease, so she has to be very careful about what she eats. Her husband, who is a foodie, seems to know better, but for most of my recent visit, he was not there.
What is a realistic expectation in this circumstance? When I have houseguests, I provide! Your feedback?
Want to Nosh: Please, do not begrudge your hostess the fact that you paid for some rubber gloves.
Your friend is treating you to housing and presumably some quality friendship-time. She also hosted you for dinner at their club (that’s one meal she provided).
I’ve noticed that attitudes and behavior toward providing food can change radically as people age and are less accustomed to frequently feeding groups.
Your friend, who has a serious illness directly related to her own diet, likely brings her own food when/if she travels. Your food needs should be on her radar, but they aren’t.
Ideally, after the first time this happened, you would have anticipated this understandable need of yours, and — along with a thoughtful gift for the household — would have brought your favorite groceries to the house.
After accepting the next invitation, you could tell her, “I’m going to pick up a few groceries. Do you have room in your fridge? And can I bring anything for you?”
Dear Amy: I appreciate the conversation in your column about funerals. While I understand that these events can be healing for family members, they can also be traumatic for some.
Many years ago, I lost my partner to AIDS. He came from a very religious family who had always treated me kindly. My partner had requested that his parents be allowed to handle the funeral, as it was important to them, and I agreed.
I flew to his childhood home with my mother and several of our mutual friends, and was welcomed warmly by the family at the viewing and treated as the grieving widower that I was.
However, at the funeral the next day, the officiant went on and on about how my partner would be going to hell and would remain there until his mother passed and “redeemed” him for his sinful “life choices,” along with many other remarks about his “lifestyle.”
Many of our mutual friends walked out. Sitting in the front pews with my mother, I simply sat in shock. I was horrified and devastated, but the family seemed to simply accept it. I have been unable to attend a funeral since. I just can’t bear to.
Hurt: My theory is that the global grief and sadness brought on during the pandemic has also inspired lots of thoughts and feelings about funerals. And yes, many people are traumatized by previous experiences with funerals, sometimes going back to their childhoods.
I am genuinely shocked and sorry that you endured this particular cruelty after your partner’s death.
Dear Amy: “Old Fashioned” had chosen not to be on any social media platforms, but was wondering how to keep up with her friends. I couldn’t believe that you suggested that she should — yes — engage on social media!
Her life was fine the way it was; why advise her to do something she doesn’t want to do?
Upset: Her life wasn’t fine. She wanted help to be in touch with her friends.
Her friends were all on social media. I suggested that she could follow them without posting on her own behalf.
© 2023 by Amy Dickinson. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency.
