Leaving Detroit

We came to celebrate because she wanted to see us all on the occasion of her 96th birthday.

She made it.

We all made it. Every grandchild. Six generations. To celebrate Grandma Louise.

We had come before for her 75th where my sister and I performed a choreographed poem about her life. We dressed in matching leotards.

Then we all gathered for her 90th party
Where there was a DJ and grandma danced the hustle with her friends while we marveled at their fitness and passion for life.

This year cousin Phil was the entertainment playing the sax and clarinet. He played recent hits like “Happy” and oldies but goodies while all the little cousin watched in silent awe. My son, Coleman, who has been playing the sax for almost six months was among the mesmerized.

He played with such generosity and abandon that I was drawn into the power of his music. At the end he bowed, very humble, and said it was a gift for Aunt Louise, who he later remarked had loved him and spanked him like a second mother.

Someone else remarked that she taught us to never give up on a friend or family member.

In the morning my best hubby ever took us to Panero Bread on Greenfield. We sat outside and in the distance saw a car unloading. It was very sun shiny so I was not sure who the people were, but I was hoping. I stared hard at them.

Yes.

My dad was dropping mom and my grandma Louise off at for grandma’s treatment at Davinci Dialysis. Surprising they looked like three old people bonded by love helping each other out of the car with care.

I ran the 50 yards between us! They smiled huge. I hugged and kissed them all followed by my 9 yo boy.

“Will you play sax at our next party?”

“Yes” he said softly as he disentangled himself from Grandma’s arms and her walker.

“He said ‘yes’” I echoed!

So another party.

Yes!