𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐚 | 𝐍𝐖

𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫.

𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐚

"Hey great-grandma!" Saylor ran to the hospital bed as soon as she walked in the room. "Hi my baby" Patrice smiled hearing her great-granddaughter's voice and reached her hand out to Saylor's, gripping it tightly.

"Wait Momo lemme help her up first" Seneca chuckled, closing the door behind him. He took his grandmother's other hand and gently raised her up so she could hug his daughter. When it was time for his hug, he wrapped his arms around Patrice and they took a moment to hug each other, connecting in a silent bond of love and memories.

A wave of emotion washed over Seneca as he helped her lie back on her pillow, listening to her shallow breathing. She raised him right along with his mom, so to see her in this state was extremely hard for him. Her skin was pale and loose, her figure was immensely frail, and her eyelids were droopy.

Despite her weak appearance, she couldn't stop smiling.

"How you feelin?" Seneca pulled a chair closer beside her bed and sat down, bringing Saylor to his lap.

"Better than I did yesterday Suga, I'm glad you brought baby girl to see me, she looking just like you" Patrice replied, keeping a smile on her face. "How's everything with you?"

"I keep telling her that but she don't see it" he chuckled, "And everything fine, she over for the weekend so I'm finna get on her nerves 'til she ready to leave."

Patrice giggled, "That's good baby, and I wish you would take that jewelry out ya mouth, looking like them rappers" she spoke disapprovingly to Seneca.

"Granny you know they look good, stop hatin" Seneca joked, making her laugh again. "Here" he gave his phone to Saylor, "Go show grandma."

Saylor jumped off his lap and brought the phone to Patrice, showing her the recent artwork he completed.

"Boyyy you so talented, look at what my grandbaby did?" she showed her nurse. It was moments like this that he was gonna miss the most, her spirit always brought a different energy in the room.

When they left the hospital Seneca strapped Saylor in her car seat and drove through the streets of Atlanta, looking at the nearby restaurants. "What you wanna eat tonight?" he looked at Saylor in the rearview mirror.

He still had tears in the brim of his eyes from seeing his grandmother in her condition, but he couldn't let them see him cry, it was a pride thing for him.

"Mmmm I don't know, pizza maybe?" she proposed.

Seneca sighed, "Momo I love you, but I really can't eat pizza every weekend. You'n want sum different? Maybe I can cook tonight."

"Daddy I'm sick of noodles" Saylor pouted.

"Don't say that like I can't cook nun else, you just used to eatin' crab legs wit ya mama, I know that's what you want, ain't it?" he raised an eyebrow, knowing his daughter had expensive taste buds.