Motor City Blues
I'm back in Detroit for my second funeral this winter. Grandpa Frank, my mom's dad, died unexpectedly on Christmas Eve, and we started driving that afternoon. Please, no one else die for a while, okay?
It's weird--Matty was in town on the 23rd, picking up Emma at the airport, so we hung out for a bit and I was telling him about how I used to be all upset that we never went to Detroit for holidays, that I felt like I missed out on this large family thing, and then, poof, we end up eating Christmas dinner at my Aunt Fran's and playing with our adorable little cousins. I guess that's the plus side.
The only time my mom said she saw her father cry was when the Red Wings won the Stanley Cup in 1997. Erica and I watched the beginning of a Red Wings game the other night at a restaurant and said to each other, "Grandpa would be so pissed to be missing a game."
It's weird--Matty was in town on the 23rd, picking up Emma at the airport, so we hung out for a bit and I was telling him about how I used to be all upset that we never went to Detroit for holidays, that I felt like I missed out on this large family thing, and then, poof, we end up eating Christmas dinner at my Aunt Fran's and playing with our adorable little cousins. I guess that's the plus side.
The only time my mom said she saw her father cry was when the Red Wings won the Stanley Cup in 1997. Erica and I watched the beginning of a Red Wings game the other night at a restaurant and said to each other, "Grandpa would be so pissed to be missing a game."
posted by Rebecca at 2:50 PM
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