Their story begins with an enduring love. Life’s path hasn’t always been smooth for my parents, yet they’ve always held fast to the lesson my grandparents modeled so beautifully—real partnership means never letting go of each other’s side.
Both grew up on the East Side of Detroit: my father’s family in Grosse Pointe and my mother’s within the city limits. Love was abundant during the Baby Boom generation, and with that came big families. My dad’s father, who earned both accounting and law degrees from the University of Detroit, carried on the accounting firm his own father founded in 1920. My grandmother, meanwhile, was extremely busy raising eight children—my dad being the fifth.
On my mother’s side, my grandfather was a carpenter and roofer who often picked up extra shifts in the factories to provide for his eight children and a granddaughter at home. My grandmother was a woman of many hats—bookkeeper, legal assistant, and office support for a cemetery, law firm, long-haul trucking company, and insurance agency.
My parents inherited that same work ethic. They raised three children while working as manufacturers’ representatives in athletic apparel and footwear before eventually owning The Team Store to supply schools directly. My mom has been a realtor for more than 30 years and even works part-time at a fishmonger. My dad has spent over 40 years coaching basketball at both the high school and junior high levels, and he still finds joy tending his vegetable garden. For many years, they ran together—these days, the pace may have slowed to a walk, but wherever they go, they’re still holding hands like lovebirds, even after 52 years of marriage.
This weekend, our family gathered to celebrate my sister’s birthday. She doesn’t like me to mention her age, but I’ll just say she’s entered my decade. As a gift, my brother-in-law arranged for a professional photographer to meet us on Belle Isle for family portraits. With their son, my brother, his wife, their two children, and my three, it felt almost like a wedding photo shoot—full of laughter and joy. In his generosity, my brother-in-law even bought a plane ticket to bring home his niece from New York so no one would be left out.
The weekend was full of everything that matters most: good food, long conversations, a few competitive Euchre games, and a Friday night high school football game where we proudly watched the third marcher in our family take the field at halftime. More than anything, it was filled with gratitude—the kind that comes from being surrounded by family. Three generations, knit together like one of Grandma’s afghans or my daughter’s quilts—woven tight with love, history, and the blessing of togetherness.