Everyone said my 101-year-old grandmother would never make it to the party. She did — and the bag hanging from her wheelchair held something I never expected.
“Not yet,” Grandma said.
Her voice was barely above a whisper, but I stopped immediately.
She kept her hand over mine.
“Wait until everybody’s here.”
I looked around the garden.
“Everybody is here.”
Grandma shook her head.
“Your mother.”
I turned.
Mom was inside helping with the cake.
My uncle went to get her.
For some reason, my heart had started beating harder.
I still had no idea what was inside the package.
Grandma sat under the shade of the apple tree with my daughter, Lily, balanced on her lap. My husband, Mark, had one hand behind Lily’s back because Grandma no longer had the strength to hold her safely by herself.
She didn’t seem to mind.
She kept looking down at Lily as
