Visiting friends

is still on my "things I can do" list - at least for now.
To be honest I don't often go visiting. We did very little of it when I was a mere kitten. I suppose people would say we "kept ourselves to ourselves". We saw my grandparents and that was about it. We didn't even visit my uncles. (My mother had only one brother and he was not married when we were growing up. My father  also had only one brother. He had two boys we almost didn't recognise.)
Going to visit friends was not something we did. As kittens we did not have "play dates" with other kittens. We played with the children in the surrounding  houses in the small country town I was born in and, later, in the city but we played with them outside or in the street. We didn't go into each others houses. We did that so rarely that even now I never feel very comfortable in somebody else's home.  
Still yesterday I knew I needed to go and visit a friend at home. I did not see her while she was in hospital. I had not been to see her in the early stages of recovery from surgery. Getting to the hospital would have been a major undertaking and she knew that. I also knew that, once home, her house mate would be caring for her. Her house mate is close to 90.  I knew they were getting support from the people around them so I didn't need to go rushing in to help.
They are nuns. 
As a kitten the idea of going into a nun's bedroom would have shocked me. I would have imagined (and probably been correct) that the room would be completely bare of anything but the absolute essentials. We were "Prods" too....proper little Presbyterians - at least on Sundays. 
But things are, rightly, different now. I call the nuns I know by their given/Christian names. We can tease one another. P.... visits us on a fairly regular basis. When she does we have wonderful wide ranging conversations. I know her surviving sister well - as I knew the one who is now deceasd.  P.... wore trousers and a floral top at the mass for her Diamond Jubilee....a top given to her by B....her housemate.  
And when I rang the back door bell and B... saw me there she hugged me. No nonsense about not hugging yet. We both know we haven't got anything to be alarmed about yet - and that I would not have been there if I was in the least bit concerned.
    "P...'s having a rest...she didn't sleep well last night."
    "Don't disturb her then," I said
    "No, she'll kill me if I don't...come on, giver her a surprise. She'll love it."
So we went down the long central passage of the old house  the two of them rattle around in and B... knocked on the closed door
P... called out and B...told her she had a visitor.
     "Who?"
     "Cat."
     "Oh bring her in!"
In all the years I have known her I had never been in there of course - as she has never been in my bedroom. 
And it was as I expected, a perfectly ordinary bedroom. It might belong to any woman on her own...apart from the crucifix above the bed.
We chatted for a bit but I knew she was tired so I didn't stay too long. 
And, as I left, B...hugged me again...a good, strong "bear" hug.
    "It was so good to see you Cat."
It is one house in which I feel wanted.