Dorothy Borchard

I hold many memories of "Grandma Denton" dear to my heart but I would have to say the best was quite a few years back... I was working for a consumer product chain, selling hardware products throughout the middle of Michigan which had me doing a fair share of driving. It was the Friday before Memorial Day weekend and I was driving north on US 23, trying to get home after a long hot day. Traffic wasn't necessarily heavy but there were always a number of trucks on this two lane highway and at the time, there were a string of several in the right hand lane. The car ahead of me was of the "gigantic" style, the iconic "Old Person Cruiser" that as my Grandpa Jurgens would say, "Had a lot of iron around you", and sure enough I could just see this grayish head just barely above the headrest. Going exactly 56 miles an hour, traffic backed up for miles as the driver of this car slowly edged along until they could pass the three trucks in the right lance. The ordeal taking what seemed like forever...especially in light of the traffic backing up behind me and the horn honking that was growing steadily more aggressive. I'd like to say I didn't join the "honking frenzy" but, when you are right behind the blocking car and everyone behind you is honking...what's a guy to do? So I started to hammer the horn like everyone else and eventually, after cranking up the speed to 57 miles an hour, the offending vehicle finally pulled over. As I prepared to hurl insults at the geriatric driver, I looked over to see a very stressed woman hunched over and in a white-knuckled clench of the steering wheel, which softened my ire long enough to process that I knew the driver of this car...it was Grandma. At that point I began honking for another reason...and flailing my hands trying to get her attention. Stoic as the Sphinx, hands locked at 10 and 2, she refused to glance over until after several minutes of me not moving ahead and continuing to congest traffic she finally did. The look on her face is one I will never forget. It is how I will remember her always. Her expression when from sheepish-stressed-resignation to pure delight as she recognized me. Her face literally lit-up as she cocked her head to one side and gave me a quick wave to go with her smile. I know she will be missed... -Steve Gallagher