Friday, the last day. Debbi and I cruise some neighborhoods to look for Gran’s trailer park and the high school where Hector and Hannah go to school. We drive through some parks and decide they are a little too scrappy - Gran wouldn’t live there. Or there. Finally, we find the park. One end of it has spaces for the snowbirds, the other part is permanent housing. Each trailer has an over-hang side porch area and a small front yard, three feet deep and about 8 feet long. Gran and Sam are retired factory workers, a dying breed. This is a good place for them to live.
I spend a warm family evening with my aunt Sophie and Uncle Bill, cousins and cousins once removed. We have so much to be grateful for.
Now it is time to write.