This is a story when Mom played cards:

“Split these two decks and shuffle this half,” Mom faced me, solid seventy-four-year-old figure, both elbows bent, both hands moving and shuffling fifty four cards.  Her long gray hair was twisted messily into a ponytail clipped up on the back of her head.  She’s worn the same Indian print skirt for three days.

“The dirt won’t show….Twenty for you, I like to see you count them in fives and turn the last one over.”  Once Mom got going with “Spite and Malice”, the cards controlled the moments. Continue reading “Mom and cards” »