Upon our arrival at Sentinel RV Park in downtown Tucson on December 23^rd, I very briefly met a man whose Class A motorhome was parked next to our assigned site.  In the 90-second conversation that we had, I learned that he was traveling alone and had no family in the area.  It only took a second for it to register that this meant he would be spending Christmas alone.  I threw out the idea that he might join Brian and me for Christmas dinner.  He nodded, muttering something to the tune of “that would be nice,” and left us to get situated.

When I mentioned the invitation to Brian, he looked at me slightly sideways.  I knew that it was more out of desire to enjoy an easy holiday together than it was about extending an invitation.  As you know, making conversation with strangers isn’t always easy or comfortable.  But I had a good feeling about this stranger, and I didn’t want him or anyone to be alone on Christmas. 

We planned to have surf and turf.  Lobster tails and steaks were both in the freezer, but dividing these things up for three people would be difficult.  I began considering other things in the freezer and remembered two racks of lamb abandoned in November due to the stomach flu we both suffered.  The lamb would be perfect for three, as one rack isn’t quite enough to satisfy us, and two racks are too much.  After the racks thawed, it dawned on me that many people don’t eat lamb.  “Well,” I thought, “too late now.  He can always have an appetizer and drink with us.”

The next day, Christmas Eve, Skipper and I stopped by his motorhome so that I could extend an official invitation to join us for Christmas dinner.  In a moment of not knowing what I was getting us into, I warned him that I was making lamb.  I assured him that there would be other things that he could have if he didn’t eat lamb.  I offered that he might join us just for a cocktail.  He seemed unphased by the dinner I was planning.  He asked if he could bring anything.  With nothing needed for the meal, I suggested that, if wine weren’t his thing, he bring his preferred choice of beverage.  He accepted the invitation, and we parted ways again after another brief meeting.

Christmas day arrived.  We prepared for our dinner guest as we would for any good friend joining us for a special meal.  I also prepared myself for the meal and wines to be over our guest’s head.  At minimum, I hoped that he would not ruin our holiday by overtly not appreciating the gesture or criticizing our extravagance.  I assumed that he wouldn’t enjoy the high-end French Burgundy we were enjoying a glass of before his arrival.  I requested that, if he wanted a glass of white wine, Brian pour him the inexpensive white wine in the fridge when he arrived.

A knock at our door sounded, respectfully just after 5:00.  We invited our newly arrived guest in and gladly accepted the gift bag of wines he extended.  I prepared myself to convey appreciation for whatever it was he’d brought, with the expectation that the bottles would be lesser wines.  To my surprise, I pulled out two very nice bottles of California wine, which would accompany our meal quite well.  “Wow! What nice wines!” I exclaimed.  And asked Brian to pour our guest a glass of the Burgundy that we were drinking.  He had already earned a glass of the good stuff!

Almost immediately, we learned that he, like us, was a sailor.  We learned that he was widowed and that he and his wife had been living full-time on their sailboat when she passed away.  With sailing being too difficult to manage as a solo sailor mentally, physically, or both, he had bought his RV and was living life anew on his land yacht.  After the shrimp cocktail and potato chips with my family’s traditional chip dip for appetizers, I served a fresh green salad with segmented oranges and avocado followed by rack of lamb (Genghis Khan-style) and scalloped potatoes. Conversation flowed as easily as the wines.  He shared that his wife loved to cook lamb and mentioned that she always prepared it blue (aka, very rare).  I apologized for cooking the lamb to medium-rare.  He smiled, laughed a little, and admitted that he preferred the cook on my lamb better.  I made a toast to his late wife and considered it serendipitous that I had come to prepare lamb for our meal and that he had come to join us for dinner. 

A dessert of homemade molten chocolate lava cake was so well received he ate two of them, proclaiming chocolate of any kind was his thing.  We moved away from the table to enjoy a Bourbon.  Not only was our visit easy, it was Christmas.  And it was meant to be.  The lights on the hanging garland twinkled as a fire blazed in the fireplace.  In this season of sharing, it felt good to share this holiday with someone else.  Brian and I had come to Tucson to feel more of the holiday spirit.  We certainly found it in Tucson.  We just hadn’t expected that it would be parked next to us.

P.S. For those who’ve been wondering if I’ll ever cook the turkey that I planned for Thanksgiving, you can rest assured that it was cooked on the Sunday after Christmas. Our Tucson friend and neighbor joined us for that dinner as well and we will hope to see him again someday in our travels.