Appreciation

As long as I feel appreciated,

I am the hostess who will make you a fresh pot of coffee and fill your cup before I even fill the pot.

I am the hostess who will give you the shirt off my back after you've had a fire completely destroy your house and you have nothing to wear.

I am the hostess that will leave the first blanket I've crocheted outside your door when you've had a fire that gutted the inside of your home and you are now here with your family and disabled son. I want a little bit to feel like home.

I am the hostess who will give you cough drops or a hair tie from my own bag.

I am the hostess who will let you into the pool late after you drove up here from Atlanta with three children.

I am the hostess who will call other hotels to find a place for you when we are full.

I am the hostess who will come to your room and fix your computer after you've messed up the firewall.

I am the hostess who will understand and call 911 after your toddler goes into anaphylactic shock, and you don't speak English.

I am the hostess who will look the other way when you have a small dog and we are not pet friendly.

I am the hostess who will let you into the breakfast room so you can be rowdy and not kicked out for noise.

As long as I know I am appreciated.

But if you cop an attitude with me, or treat me like I am beneath you, you will find your butt on the pavement before the door finishes swinging shut behind you.

Remembering Eric

Sometimes, you get that guest. The one person who makes you smile, or makes you laugh. You break the shell of professionalism, and the break their's of anonymity, and you get to know each other.

One guest for me was Eric.

Eric and his family stayed here for three months last winter when their home suffered ice damage from the winter. I got to know him, his wife, and their two small children.

Eric was a very happy go lucky kind of guy. His glass was 2/3rds full, if not more. He was also an insomniac who spent most of the night in the lobby or the breakfast room chatting with me or on his laptop. We would crack each other up with crazy stories or funny things we heard. He told me about his wife, and his kids, and what his next big project was going to be. Eric was always about to start some business or had a money making idea.

Near the end of thier stay, he started suffereing from stomach pains. Thinking it was an ulcer or a hernia, he went to the doctor. Not much was found.

A few times, he ended up in the ER for pain before finally they had a diagnosis.

It was cancer.

We watched Eric as he went started his treatments and slowly began to waste away over only less than a month. He passed away only ten days after checking out, spending that with hospice at home. I attended his funeral as a representative of our hotel where he spent the last three months of his life.

I also went because he was my friend.

His wife is a guest here right now, but I haven't had a chance to speak with her yet. Is she here as a memorial to her husband's last home? I'm not sure. But tonight, we'll remember Eric with a pizza - meat, of course - and a glass of beer, laughing together with friends.

Because that's how he would have wanted it.