I spent the last couple of weeks in New York for a family reunion. It was a grand occasion, with more than 100 of the descendants/related by marriage of one of my sets of great grandparents in one place for at least part of a weekend.
When we weren’t in the Catskills for the reunion proper, we were at the home of my aunt, on Long Island. My mom is the oldest in her family, and this sister is the second eldest. The last several times I’ve been to New York, she’s picked me up from the airport and provided a base of operations, at no small inconvenience to herself.
This time was no exception, if you don’t count that most trips, I’ve stayed with other aunts or cousins as well— this time, it was mostly on the one aunt. The other LI aunt did step up and pinch hit a fair amount during the day, but we slept at second-eldest aunt’s place and ate breakfast and/or lunch before we saw her most days.
Every time I stay with the second eldest aunt, I’ve said “you don’t have to entertain me. I’m happy to take the train into the city…” at which time my aunt says “Are you kidding me? You’ll be killed! Your mother would never forgive me.”