I follow her frequently. I can’t help it – I miss her, and my other grandchildren, and their energy pulls me Toward them. She’s had plenty of energy recently, maybe because of those three little heads following her around everywhere. But i don’t mind, I like to be pulled their direction.

As she drove northwest, there was peace in the car. She’s often been able to settle into peace – sit there and let it be.  That’s not to say her mind was peaceful. Even though I can follow her, I can’t quite read her thoughts. I just surmise, based on the little girl and teenager I knew, the young woman I’ve watched, what she’s thinking.  Or feeling. She was wide eyed for the drive, but there was an occasional tear. Or stream of them. I’m not even sure she knew what they were – happy, sad, scared, touched.  All of them. The further she went, the more 16-wheel trucks she saw. Her sister and she used to love when I drove my truck down to see them. So maybe those are what caused her thoughts to pull me in.

I could tell, however, that she was pleasantly surprised when she got to Cleveland.  The trip had gone smoothly. There was no breakdowns in the car. No (real) crying except her own. And there was a surprising aesthetic to Cleveland that she liked. the same surprising green that she saw so often on the lush hillsides of La Jolla and Cardiff. Maybe not the ocean right west, but beautiful still.

As soon as they got to the hotel, she took those little ones outside. Her daughters picked berries and looked for worms. So unafraid to get dirty, even though the one was in a purple sequine dress. Her son saw some older boys – black, Indian, white -playing basketball. He wanted to play with them, his 48 inches to there 67 inches. His five innocent years to their 12 or 13. She encouraged him to watch, then ask to join when it felt right. She stepped away at that point, not out of sight but letting him choose his own actions. She had the look I remember when she was 6, playing checkers with me and waiting to see if I might grab another beer, another cigarette. Wanting to control my choice, but knowing even then she couldn’t. Of course her little guy is choosing to live, to engage, to follow his heart, better than this old guy could even 30 years ago. He got in there with those boys and damn if he didn’t try to defend them. He introduced himself too, and shook their hands, which was even more impressive. A bit later they started picking up their game and using the n* word so she quickly suggested they go for a night time swim. Which plan was ruined by a big storm and a few temper tantrums by the girls who preferred worms and berries to swimming, so they called it a night.

I stuck around. I  Always have more people to see, but I felt good things where in store here. The next morning I listed to her girls tell people at breakfast who was a boy and who was a girl, and ask a family if they were white or black. i don’t even know what they were, so fair question for those little 4 year old terrors. They all headed to downtown Cleveland, and I could see my granddaughter open up as they drove in.  One glance of water and the city seemed to have her. She forgot it would be on a Great Lake, and she might forget but I can tell you that’s the first real type of water she loved. Not the ocean, not a river.  Not a swim pool. The lakes. None as big as Lake Erie of course – and probably even man made ones in Pueblo and Colorado Springs – but those lakes pull her in. Her husband and son headed into Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and I watched her take a solid 30 minutes convincing those girls to go in. But she did, finally. I was even about to give up. Trying to figure out what they were scared of felt like a rubrics cube with the stickers all switched up. Impossible.  Once inside, there wasn’t one thing in that museum she didn’t want to digest and memorize. The instruments, the clothing, the stage props. But what seemed to pull her in the most was the hand written letters, the personally typed letters, the human engagement in the whole thing. That you forget exists in such a business. She focused in on those and wanted to snap photos of every one, with the hopes of being able to later read what those three little ones could care less about right that minute. Meanwhile, I read them all. Mick Jagger is a riot and John Lennon was a little too in love with Yoko. But who am I to say. I won’t be surprised if she goes back a few times in the future. Her daughter in the purple sequins was intermittently scared, and the other one pretended to be scared if her sister was around and was a little jokester and clown if she was just with her brother. Meanwhile that little boy told 10 people he was going to be in the hall of fame one day. There is a lot to be said for spunk and confidence.

They bought what seemed to me to be the whole souvenir shop on the way out. but I guess I might have been accused of the same thing every so often, including on July 4ths when I would take down fireworks to her and her sister to set off. But she bought a bit too damn much. The cashier had been high for at least the past 3 years straight but was as nice as they come (she just couldn’t quite see straight or talk at any regular speed). She let Nikki know there was a Brooklyn in Ohio right in the greater Cleveland area, and the famous twin festival going on in Twinsbugh a half hour away. And that Mitchell’s Ice Cream was worth a trip. She passed through Brooklyn (office parks and no charm), drove by the beach of Lakeside and the charming Victorian-home lined streets to Mitchell’s. The little one with the purple sequins had to sit the ice cream out as she’d poured water all over her sister. But the rest of them enjoyed that ice cream, I’d say even more than the DQ sundaes we would indulge in when she would visit me growing up. Don’t tell her tell you differently – ice cream lightens her soul. She seems to have passed this trait onto her kids.

The night ended with another night time swim. And watching the Pro Football Hall of Fame induction. Her kids seemed excited to piece this together with the football stadium they saw earlier in the day, right next to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. She kept getting teary at each speech, particularly that first one by that Ogden player. God knows why a Raven would get her all emotional. And didn’t she used to be a Redskin fan? And then that Giants coach (and Jets, and Cowboys – the guy was everywhere).  I seem to recall her hating him, but when he said “when things go well in football, they are never as good as they seem.  and when things go bad in football, they are never as bad as they seem” – She seemed to get energized. She was quiet, but her mind was taking that in. Doing something with it. And then she took bits and pieces of each speech and tried to point out the wisdom to her children. They meanwhile were trying to fold each other up into the sofa bed.  In any event, I know that little girl who loved football, who placed a weekly bet with me for the Redskins and against the Broncos, would have been happy that he trip to Cleveland coincided with the Pro Football HOF weekend. She might say her time working at the NFL took some of that passion away. But I can tell you differently. This old spirit here can feel her heart beating when football is around.

The next day I stuck around a bit to make sure that drive west went as well as the stay in Cleveland. her eyes got bright when they passed through Brooklyn Ohio, Brooklyn Illinois, and Brooklyn Iowa. I can tell you this much though – these Brooklyns aren’t going to be her “mid-west   Brooklyn”. Not much going on in any. Cleveland had the best shot of that if I was a betting man.   That little boy of hers lit up in Gary, Indiana, but I don’t need to tell you guys about that. Anyone reading this knows that story. But I tell you, that little guy truly believes he had been to Gary before and has a little tiny piece of MJ’s soul. There’s something to be said for that belief too. That concept. That your soul dives into another’s when your body isn’t working any more. Either the whole soul into another whole body, or you spread the wealth. Maybe spreading the wealth is the better way to go, and the more likely scenario.

The day was a smooth one. She passed even more 16-wheel trucks. She told her kids that her Grandpa Ray used to drive one. Kai said “I know that mommy, you told me before”. The one with the purple sequins (changed to a flower dress today) said “I like trucks and cows that are smaller than trucks”. She’s a funny one to try to follow. That other little pistol, who stayed in her pajamas today, said “Dude, only boys drive trucks DUDE.  Girls tell them what to do DUDE”. Then laughed like she’d figured up the funniest joke ever. I like to believe she has just a little piece of my soul – the very best piece – in that little humorous heart of hers.