Solitaire

I shuffle the cards and lay them out in their seven stacks, like they belong. I wait for the go ahead signal, but I hear nothing. I look up and see no one. I realize something isn’t right. I have the cards laid our right, along with my score card and pen, but something is missing. Or maybe it’s someone. I start to move the cards, red seven on black eight. I flip the card over and when I see the ace I am taken back to when I was seven years old. I’m up on my feet, standing in the chair, trying to reach the middle. I have to beat her; my two of hearts must reach the ace of hearts before her two. The race to the top, being called a cheater, all in good fun, the sound of laughter piercing throughout the house. I get another ace, I’m ahead now, but she gets one too. Hands flying fast, cards going everywhere, not knowing who is playing what. We are out of moves, time to separate, time to count. Hoping I win, counting my stack to myself. I hesitate; she hesitates, waiting to see who is going to reveal their score first. She speaks first, I shout for joy, for it is the first time I have beaten her, the champion. I blink and I am back, alone, without my grandma. Where is she? Why is she not here? How could she leave me? I’m not ready to be alone. There’s still more she hasn’t told me. That was the key. Get her to talk, and she would lose focus, a guaranteed win, but a lesson learned or a struggle understood. All of a sudden I start to become overwhelmed with sadness and abandonment. It’s as if her spirit comes upon me. I know she believed in the Holy Spirit. Being accompanied by both I am joined with peace. At that moment I realize that she isn’t gone, just merely not here. She simply had another place to be. Her duties to me have been fulfilled, even if I don’t see it that way. When I see her again I’ll have a deck of cards to finish what can’t be done without her. But until then, I must continue onward with the skills she has left me with.