nothing like it

There's nothing like a really good home-cooked meal. I had one yesterday. My Dad's aunt, who I just call "Grandma", called me up two weeks ago and asked if I wanted to have dinner at their place. I had called in January when I came back to SF, but they hadn't called me back. They were in the Philippines. I said that I was really busy (it was the weekend right before "hell" week, which didn't turn out to be so bad anyway), but that I was free the following Saturday, which was yesterday.

Took the M line, got off at the last stop, and walked a little over half a mile to their house. I figured that I could have used the walk anyway, and I didn't feel like waiting for the J. They live in the most beautiful house I have ever laid my eyes on. A grand, San Francisco kind of house. Steps leading up to the doorway, wood paneling in the living room and dining room, a large kitchen, a basement bigger and as comfortable as my apartment--I could go on. It's just such a nice house. Even their furniture is nice. It's old and ornate, but surprisingly clean and new-looking.

Grandma answered the door. She was in the middle of cooking. She asked me how I got here. She was worried that I walked "so far", but I explained that I liked walking, and that it was not too bad. She offered me pastries from the Philippines. So good. We'll have to wait for the other to arrive because they went to church: Grandpa; their son and his wife A. and M.; their daughter A.;and Father L., who was saying Mass and staying at their house for a couple of days until he leaves for DC. She asked me how my parents were. They just came back from Europe. At the mention of Europe, she sat me down in the living room and handed me 4 photo albums of her trip to Europe. I love looking at photos, especially when they're from another time. I think she wanted to keep me busy for she was still cooking.

The rest of the family arrived. I was introduced to Father L., who came from Cambodia. He showed me pictures of the orphanage he started there. He took 800 kid orphans out of the factories, and now they're in school, learning how to take care of themselves, and just being kids. How awesome is that? He said he has volunteers from Korea and Australia. It makes me want to volunteer. Maybe I'll do that sometime.

Food was so good: wonton soup, eggplant in oyster sauce, steamed crab, rice. Desert was sliced oranges and pomello. Father sat at the head of the dining room table and blessed the food. The family was so nice to me, and they made me feel at home. A. and M. took me home since it was raining, and they lived nearby. Grandma sent me home with a care package: 2 oranges, 1 apple, some ham that she had in the fridge ("You can make sandwiches") and all the filipino pastries she brought back from the Philippines. I refused to have all her pastries, but she insisted. They're really good. She said for me to come back often. I assured her that I will.

Lovely. Such a good time. It makes me really appreciate how big and caring my family is. I mean, this is my Dad's aunt. It just seems so unlikely to me to be having dinner with my Dad's aunt without my Dad. And they just welcomed me like I was a part of the family. I mean, I am, but I'm like a couple branches over on the family tree. God, I love it when people are good and warm and loving. They're hosting a priest for crying out loud! God bless them.