When I was growing up, after the kids went to bed, my mom and dad would play cards. According to my Mom, they always played 4 rounds of merchant rummy.
My father came from a family that liked to play games. My grandfather played tennis until he was in his 80s. He won several trophies.
He also played bridge at the Mumbai gymkhana until he was in his 90s. His daughter, my aunt, became a world class bridge player. She has been in tournaments in London, New York, Indonesia, Japan, and South Africa, among other places.
My father was not into bridge, but he did like to play cards. He taught my mother to play rummy. Before they left India, she sometimes played cards with my grandfather because it made the old man happy.
After my parents immigrated to New York City, they continued to play after the children were in bed, having their own private evening ritual.
When my brother and I were older, we’d play hearts with my father on weekends. Mom never really got into that game, so it was just the three of us. These games were cutthroat. My father usually won, but sometimes I beat him. My brother seldom won.
After I left home, my father stopped playing with my brother but he and Mom still played cards every night after dinner. From the times I overheard them when I was visiting, I know they flirted during these games, like they were still newlyweds. It was sweet, and cute.
After my father died, when Mom moved in with us, she brought along the old deck of cards. Despite its age, it’s in good condition and Mom and I use it when we play cards, which we do a few times a week after dinner.
I don’t play as aggressively as I used to. The objective is no longer winning, it’s spending time with my mom. If I have a winning streak for a few days, then I’ll deliberately play badly so she can win the next few times.
My mother is 82 years old. She is not as sharp as she used to be but she still enjoys many things. She loves to read and she has a collection of old books and movies. She still cooks, balances her checkbook, and manages her own money. She always makes her bed in the morning and always washes her hair on Monday. Before the pandemic, I’d take her out to eat once a month.
Her best friend died but she still has an old friend and a few relatives who call. There is a neighbor who comes over to chat with her every few days, and my friends talk to her for a few minutes when they come over.
When I got cancer, she pushed herself to help me. Now as I respond well to treatment, she is resting more, which she needs to do.
And she and I play cards a few times a week after dinner, which she really enjoys. She always remembers my father during these games and we will share memories.
All of this helps my mother.
But letting my mom win when we play cards helps me.
Because it invariably makes my mother laugh. And I love to hear that.
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This post was previously published on Shefali O’Hara’s blog.
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From The Good Men Project on Medium
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