I feel welcomed.

Missouri is a state of humidity, of rains and fogs, and in parts, a land of drained swamps. Green and lush, this state is Southern — not the deep South of Mississippi or Georgia, but plenty hot and muggy with sweet ice tea assumed when you order ice tea. Oh, and to prove its Southern bona fides, everything is fried. Everything.

But it’s really not the land that is important (unless you’re in the certain parts of the Middle East, then it’s the land), it is the people to whom we pledge our hearts, and who make St. Louis our home away from home. As for me, visiting St. Louis this time, is not really visiting St. Louis. Sure, under normal circumstances we would go places and do things — like visiting museums, the zoo, Busch Gardens, Budweiser brewery, The Arch, etc. — but these are not normal circumstances. First of all, there is still COVID. Second of all, neither my brother-in-law nor I are capable of walking much — him with a healing foot and me with a soon-to-be replaced left hip.

I love my mom-in-law, Brenda. She is kind, funny, smart and generous. She’s also laid back, so it’s easy to relax around her. I don’t feel judged, but rather accepted. Glenn, my brother-in-law, is one of the most capable humans. He can fix anything. He’s also a genuinely nice guy, a kind man who was, unfairly and unfortunately, dealt a shit card for health all his life. Yet he still cracks jokes and is game for anything (right now, that means anything that doesn’t involve walking, though). So, we stay home and relax.