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  Losing Grandma Louise

  Shitaye Morrison

  Losing Grandma Louise

  Copyright © 2016 by Shitaye Morrison

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For information, visit: SHITAYEMORRISON.COM

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  Cover Design by Shitaye Morrison

  First Edition: June 2017

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Losing Grandma Louise | Shitaye Morrison

  intro

  1 | Crushed!

  2 | Change is coming

  Booked

  The Change

  A family that prays together.....

  Judgment Day

  Chapter 8 | The Mission

  Chapter 9 | Busted & Disgusted

  Chapter 10 | Bon Appétit

  Chapter 11 | Make it official

  Chapter 12 | The Big Secret

  Chapter 13 | Mission Failed

  Chapter 14 | The Plot Thickens

  Chapter 15 | Love Wins!

  In Loving Memory of Grandma

  Louise Maria Davis

  We all love and miss you very much!! I dedicate this book to you. I hope I am making you proud. I love you FOREVER AND EVER!!!

  Losing Grandma Louise

  Shitaye Morrison

  intro

  My rock, my confidant, my best friend. Never in my short, tender life, would I ever imagine the day that I would have to prepare myself to lose you. Although you raised me to be a strong young man, I’m still weak at the thought of living without you. You didn’t carry me in your stomach, but you carried me through life. You didn’t birth me, but you nurtured me into who I am today. You taught me to obey the lord, who tells us to obey the laws of the land. You taught me how to fight my way through a struggle, and how to use every resource and recourse possible to make it. And even when there seemed to be no resources to turn to, you showed me how to look to God, who will guide me through with whatever it is I do have. We don’t look the same, but I mirror who you are. We don’t have the same bloodline, but our souls are connected as one. Who am I without you? Who are you without me? How can I ever go on in life without seeing your beautiful face every day? Only time will tell me the answers to the questions that I ask. Once life comes crumbling down on my teenage head, these questions will become challenges. Then I will have no other choice but to face them. Dear Grandma, regardless of how crazy life may get, I promise to stick it out until the end. Because the most important thing you’ve always taught me, is from Jerimiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you. Plans to keep you and not to harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future.”

  1

  Crushed!

  “O Lord, bless me indeed. Enlarge my territory. Keep your hands on me so no evil can harm me and I will feel no pain In Jesus Name Amen!”

  My grandmother and I recited the prayer together, as I prepared to leave the house for my last day of 8th grade. I’m going to high school next semester and' leaving middle school with a 4.0 GPA. Although I’m normally a pretty happy kid, right now I can’t help but to be heartbroken over the fact that my Grandmother won’t make it through the summer. She was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer in January. They told us in April that she only had a few short months to live.

  My grandmother is my legal guardian and the only parental figure I’ve ever had in my life. She was my nanny when I was an infant. My parents had me at a very young age, they were both only 19. They left me with the nanny so they could travel to Italy when I was only 3 months old. They were only supposed to be gone for a week but, unfortunately, they never returned. Grandma spent weeks looking for them. The law couldn’t do much to help, because she was only the nanny, and didn’t know much about them. She’d only been hired 2 months before they disappeared. It took a month for them to figure out that my parents were killed in a car accident, by a drunk driver, in Italy.

  None of my family attempted to come and find me. Grandma fought long and hard to get full custody of me. Although no one in my family came to claim me, the system was still stubborn about giving a woman like grandma, full custody of a boy like me. By the grace of God, after a whole year of fighting, Grandma was awarded full custody, and my life has been good ever since. Even in the bad times, things were still good. With God on our side, and each other, we’ve made it through. Prayer has saved us and faith has kept us going. I’m glad my family rejected me, because if they hadn’t done so, I would have never experienced life with Grandma. She is my guardian angel, right here on earth, and I’m not sure how I’m going to survive without her. I mean that, literally.

  After reciting my daily prayer with her, I kissed her on her soft cheek and made my way to school. The school bus ride seemed much longer than usual today. The sky seemed pretty gloomy for it to be so late in the spring. The thick Detroit air gave me chills. Although I was being honored today for graduating top in my class, I still felt like something bad was going to happen. I couldn’t help but think that I will probably go home to find out Grandma has passed away. A few weeks ago she requested for the doctors to send her home for hospice care. Hospice care is when a team of professionals and volunteers provide end-of-life care, focusing on making the patient comfortable before they die. Grandma wanted to be home when she transitioned from the earth to the heavens. She said the hospitals treat her well, but there is nothing like being in the comfort of your own home.

  I know her real reason for wanting to be home is so that she can keep a close eye on me I know its hurting Grandma to leave me behind. When she dies, I will probably be shipped off into the system and placed with a family who could care less about me. I will only be useful for the government benefits that come along with unwanted children like myself. I may look like the ideal candidate for adoption. But, the truth is, a lot of the kids who look like me, that get placed in foster homes in the area where I live, are only being used. That’s why she’s fighting as hard as she can. It hurts me to see her struggling. The chemo is tearing her body apart. I feel so selfish for wanting her to hold on, but I love her too much to let her go. “Lord, please just give me a little bit more time with her. I’m not ready yet.” I said a quick prayer before entering my school.

  Coffee Middle School is a large school with predominately black kids. There are maybe a handful of Caucasian, Arabic, and a few Mexicans. Located in the middle of the Detroit’s Eastside, the school is poor and lacks the funds required to provide a proper education. But I’ve learned how to work with whatever resources I’ve been dealt. Grandma has never received any real education. Everything she’s learned, she’s done so on her own or with my help. We teach each other. She’s taught me how to live by the bible and I’ve taught her the laws of the land.

  The long hallways were empty today. A lot of the kids don’t show up on the last day. Either because they’ve already started their summer vacations at home on the couch, or they were not expecting any awards at the ceremony held today to honor our accomplishments and just don’t care. Those that did show up were probably forced by their parents just so that they can enjoy one more free day at home without the kid
s, or because they actually care and take pride in their kid’s accomplishments. I, amongst all of the students, just needed to have perfect attendance. Grandma has always been real big on me showing up for class. Even while she lay on her death bed, she refuses to let me stay home from school. “When you are committed to something you put your all into it. Never let anything stop you from getting it done.” is what she would tell me when I needed motivation to get to school. Even on a sick day.

  I wasn’t in the mood for school today. I was grateful that today would be a very easy day and that would help time go by fast. I walked in to Homeroom to find there were only 13 kids, out of 27, that showed up. The empty classroom made me nervous about the ceremony. More than likely, all 13 of these kids would have someone in attendance to support them, but I, the kid with the most awards, wouldn’t. I sat nervously as the teacher explained the day’s schedule. After Homeroom was over, we would head to the school’s auditorium for an hour and a half ceremony, and once that ended, we would be able to have lunch with our families on the school’s field. I was secretly hoping the gloomy skies outside meant that it would rain soon and the lunch would be canceled. I didn’t want to look like the lonely kid in the corner with no family. I imagined that’s what my life would soon be like, once Grandma passed away. I would be the lonely kid, with no family, hopping from house to house, hoping to find love somewhere.

  “Mr. Price did your grandmother find someone to come support you today?” My homeroom teacher, Mrs. McClain, asked me a question she already knew the answer to.

  “No ma’am, she didn’t have the time....she’s dying” I replied. I didn’t mean to be rude, although I felt like she was by asking me such an obvious question, in front of the whole class. But Grandma always taught me to respect my elders, even when they don’t show me respect. She would often say “Let God deal with them folk. He will reward you for your obedience.”

  “Its okay, Tony. My Grandma died last year.” Tamara was one of the few kids in my class who actually liked me. She spoke up as an attempt to comfort me. I’ve never had any friends at school. There were a handful of people that communicated with me on a regular basis but none that I could call my buddies.

  “That’s not his real Grandma” another kid shouted out.

  “That’s none of your business. He loves her and she raised him so it doesn’t matter” Tamara defended me. I didn’t say anything. I rarely ever speak in class. Any and every thing I say is either taken out of content or used against me. Everyone looks at me as the enemy, because I don’t look like them. Even though our struggles are similar, we live in the same neighborhood and were raised in the same ghetto streets of Detroit.

  “Well Tony, hopefully you will feel better soon. I’m pretty sure, after today’s ceremony, your spirits will be lifted.” The teacher said with a big, bright smile on her face, as if there was anything to smile about.

  I peeked around the room at the other 5 kids who were dressed to impress. Tamara wore a pretty pink dress, her hair was in an afro with a pretty pink flower in it. I’ve had a crush on her since elementary. She was short, but still a few inches taller than me. Her figure wasn’t like most girls our age. She was very skinny and dressed appropriate for her age. Her clothes were never skintight or revealing. Grandma Louise says social media has ruined the image of girls our age. Everybody wants to look like an Instagram model. Grandma doesn’t allow me to have anything that connects me to social media. She says the internet will poison my brain.

  The bell rang and Mrs. McClain instructed us to remain seated. “Once they make the announcement over the PA system, we will be instructed to leave and head to the auditorium.” She said. While we waited for the announcements Tamara came and sat in the empty seat next to me.

  “Why don’t you ever talk?” she asked.

  “Why are you all of a sudden concerned?” I may have sounded as if I was being sarcastic, but I genuinely wanted to know what spiked her concern after all these years.

  “I dunno” She hunched her shoulders. “I guess I just wanted something to say to you before we graduate from middle school and never see each other again.”

  “You moving?” I asked. I was confused because we’ve always attended the same schools, since kindergarten.

  “No, but you are!” She said with certainty in her voice. I looked at her waiting for her to explain what she meant. “Look here......I know you love your Grandma and appreciate everything she’s done for you. But you have a better life out there, somewhere, just waiting to be lived. You are lucky to even have a chance to get out of this ghetto lifestyle. The rest of us are born into this and will more than likely be here a lot longer then we want to be. You’ve been going through life struggling with your Grandma, when you can be somewhere living it up. Look at your clothes, they come from the bottom shelf of Forman Mills. You never have snack money, nor do you have any of the latest electronics. Look at you, with your blond hair and blue eyes. You’re the perfect candidate for some rich Canadian family desperate to spoil a little white boy like yourself. You are willing to sacrifice the good life for your little ole Grandma? Stop holding on to what makes you comfortable and go get what makes you better.” Her words pinched a nerve because it was none of her business.

  “Well I’ll have you to know this TAMARA!! My Grandma don’t buy my clothes from the bottom shelf of Forman Mills. We prefer The Goodwill. At least she not like yo mama squeezing 6 kids in a 3 bedroom section 8 apartment. I guess that’s how she can afford to buy you dre beats huh? Unfortunately my Grandma don’t have a baby daddy she can sew for child support like yo mama does to sue for money every month to afford a hover board. And sorry to burst your bubble but, this life I’m living with Grandma Louise isn’t lavish but it’s full of love. She gives me more affection and attention than you will ever get from that iPhone yo mama bought you. My grandma aint going nowhere and neither am I. So I guess you could’ve saved this going away speech because I will be seeing you at Finney High school for 9th grade.”

  She looked completely shocked by my sudden outburst.

  But I continued.

  “By the way, I didn’t choose this lifestyle this lifestyle chose me”

  Yea, I spoke Ebonics. I was raised around it. Grandma Louise spoke Ebonics frequently but she also made sure I knew when to use proper English. An argument with Tamara was not one of those times.

  Judging by the look on her face, I’d pissed her off. The announcements came over the PA system instructing us to head to the auditorium for our awards ceremony. Tamara sat staring at me directly in my eyes like she wanted to bite my head off. Once the announcements were over she looked at me and said

  “What do you know about what goes on in my house? You don’t know the struggle! You ain’t from the ghetto. You just a little white boy with blonde hair and blue eyes pretending to be something you ain’t. Just because you was raised by one of us, don’t make you one of us. Watch what you say outta those tiny little pink lips.” Then she stood up and fell into line with the other classmates. And just like that, she went from defending me to beefing with me. I guess it was best I no longer had a crush on Tamara Morrison.

  Judging by the look on her face, I’d pinched a bigger nerve on her than she did on me. The announcements came over the PA system instructing us to head to the auditorium for our awards ceremony. Tamara sat staring at me, directly in my eyes, like she wanted to bite my head off. Once the announcements were over she looked at me and said

  “What do you know about what goes on in my house? You don’t know the struggle! You ain’t from the ghetto. You just a little white boy with blonde hair and blue eyes pretending to be something you ain’t. Just because you was raised by one of us, don’t make you one of us. Watch what you say outta those tiny little pink lips.” Then she stood up and fell into line with the other classmates. And just like that, she went from defending me to hating me. I guess it was best to say I longer had a crush on Tamara Morrison.

  2

  Cha
nge is coming

  THE AWARD CEREMONY had a lot more attendees then I thought would show. Thank God, the principal asked if the audience could hold their applause until after every child in each class was called. That way the kids, like myself, who didn’t have anybody in the audience, wouldn’t feel left out. When my name was called I felt a lot of piercing stares as I accepted all 6 of my awards. Perfect Attendance, High Honor Roll, Best Behavior, were just a few of those I received. I could feel the dirty looks as I walked across the stage. They all yelled “white privilege” but, little did they know, it was my black Grandmother that helped me earn every award I received. I was used to the stares and the finger pointing. Just like Tamara said, I’m “just a little white boy being raised by a black woman”, doesn’t mean I get any preference over the other students or treated any differently. They could have very well received every award I’m getting today. They chose to fall victim to the system, while I chose to beat the system.

  It hurt my heart to look into the audience and not see my grandmother’s bright, beautiful face in the audience. To not see her standing proudly as I accepted my awards, not caring about the judgmental stares or what anyone thought about her loving this little blond haired blue eyed white kid. I couldn’t wait to get home to her to show how all of her hard work has paid off. Unfortunately for me, it didn’t rain. Which meant that lunch with the parents wasn’t canceled. As I prepared to look like the loner kid in the corner, the principal and Mrs. McClain walked up to me. All the other kids were already headed outside with their parents, prepared to be served the same crappy lunches we eat every day. But they were still excited because their parents were with them.

  “Tony Principal Kiefer and I would like to talk to you about something very important.” Mrs. McClain said. I didn’t respond because I was trying to think of what could be so important. Principal Keifer directed me to sit down as he did the same in the seat right next to me. My body stiffened as I braced myself to hear the sad news of my grandmother’s passing. But to my surprise, that wasn’t the purpose of this discussion.