So, the other day, my brother-in-law politely asked me to leave his house.

Now, to be fair, it was my little sister, his wife, who invited me to spend the holidays at their home on the North Shore of Long Island, in the quaint incorporated village of Port Jefferson. She thought a little Christmas/New Year's family cheer would break me out of my months-long bout of depression. And, with their three kids finally out of the house, I'm sure she was suffering a bit from empty nest syndrome. So, happily, since my sister and I have always been very close, I packed some warm clothes, my laptop, and my editor Maxine and drove my beat-up Toyota Camry the 50 miles from Queens to their humble seashore abode.

Good times were had and my favorite niece, Kiana, visited often (well, she had only moved 10 minutes away). We explored the nearby malls, I treated them to lunches, brunches, and dinners (no Burger Kings or Applebees...well, my brother-in-law wanted IHOP for the brunches), and I took long, frigid walks along the shore on sunny days. Not much writing got done, so Maxine just played with Melissa, my sister's Maine Coon cat, while I tried not to spend all my time in sweats and fleece around the house.

After almost four weeks, my brother-in-law had a terse confab with me, in his home office. I should note that we've had a very good relationship over the 30 years he's been married to my sister. He accepts my "condtion" as he refers to my dysphoria and he fits the profile of your typical East Coast liberal so, we get along. He's not a man of many words. But I understood he wanted me to leave, even as he was fumbling to not sound offending or annoyed. So, when my sister came home from her workday at Port Jefferson High, I greeted her at my car, hugged her and tearfully bade her farewell. An hour later, Maxine and I were home.

All good things come to an end. My depression has generally been lifted. I spent a solid month with my little sister. We reminisced about many things. We laughed and cried about our parents who are no longer with us. I let her read my stories, some of them I've posted on BCTS, some that are not TG-oriented, and even some that are just plain bad. LOL. But, even I could sense that I had over-stayed my welcome. We had disparate lives and not all that much in common other than blood. Have any of you had a similar experience with a family member or close friend?

Meanwhile, I leave you with a picture of two other "pals": Maxine and Melissa became bosom buddies during our stay. On our last day there, they had exhausted themselves in play, napping together on the bed in my room.

So, I think this will be my last cat picture for a while. At the risk of being known as that "old cat lady"...

Hugs,

Sammy