Playing Cards

Until recently and for 15 years I was part of a volunteer team trained to accompany persons who were in palliative care. Most often, they were still at home and I would go there to spend a few hours with them. Occasionally, I would also visit them at the hospital when their condition worsened. One of the first person assigned to me – let’s call him Mr. L. – was an elderly gentleman who was hospitalized and wanted someone to play cards with him. I saw him weekly for about two months. Each time, the tattered decks of cards were out and ready to be distributed when I arrived. I don’t recall having many conversations with Mr. L. Playing card was foremost in his mind and I suspect he saw talking as a distraction from what was important.

We always played the same game – one I had never heard of before. He never really explained the rules of the game to me, but I assumed I could figure it out as we played. Whenever I thought I had finally done that, he would play a card that made no sense and thus made me think that I still did not understand the rules after all. I later found out from his son that his father could not see the cards very well and he told me not to worry too much about the cards he played or the rules. All that mattered was that he had someone to play cards with him.

When Mr. L. passed away, I went to his funeral. Mr. L. had asked his son to read a short letter he had written addressed to his family. I can’t remember the exact words, but it read something like this, “I have loved you dearly, and I know that you have loved me as well. A love like that never dies. When you get to heaven, I will be waiting for you with a big smile on my face and I will give you a hug. And then, we will sit down together and play cards!"

When I get to heaven, I hope that Mr. L. will invite me to play cards with him and his family. I would then finally be able to learn the rules of the game!