I'm feeling like most of the stuff I am posting is not quite done and not very good, but sometimes you just have to do the best you can do. So here it is.
"Solitaire"
She loved solitaire.
Black on red on black
on red on black on red
day after day after day.
Even belonged
to a daily solitaire challenge.
"Do you usually do them?" I ask.
"Oh yes," she says.
"I always beat them.
I just play until I win."
"I can’t beat that one,"
she says to me one Sunday.
"I’ve played it 65 times
And I can’t beat it."
I watched that day as she did it
four or five more times.
She finally won.
And now that she is gone
I play solitaire,
pretty much every day.
No idea about strategies
or how you can actually
play to win. To me,
solitaire feels like
pure dumb luck.
But I keep playing, hoping
that if I play enough times
maybe I will win
a few memories
or perhaps
at least a little
of her tenacity.
© Carol Wilcox, 2022
2 comments:
It's really wonderful to write about this memory, Carol, & then playing yourself. I love that ending: "if I play enough timesmaybe I will win a few memories or perhaps at least a little of her tenacity"
What a tribute to your mom and the love you shared. Love that you're playing solitaire, it brings you closer to her, and something tells me that you already have her tenacity.
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