Yahtzee

I don't have a lot of memories of my mom's mom, because she passed away when I was twelve and we never really lived very close to her. We'd go up north for holidays and sometimes a birthday or two, or whenever my great grandma would have one of her big family reunions at the lake. But for the most part, it was Christmas cards and phone calls with an occasional weekend visit.

I do, however, remember a few things about her that stick with me from over the years. One being that she was the one who taught me how to play games--mostly Yahtzee.

I have a very clear memory from when I was about eight or nine and we were at her house in Ohio. I think my great Aunt Pat was there, and maybe a few of my uncles. They were playing some loud game and I could hear the dice echo off the wooden kitchen table from the living room.

I wandered into the kitchen to see what in the world was going on. I was a fairly quiet kid, but my grandma was not so quiet. She had the funniest laugh that would make everyone else laugh, and she always wore glasses but they had a tint on them from when she was outside in the sun. They always stayed a little bit tinted, even in the darkness of the kitchen.

There was cigarette smoke and ash trays, but as I wandered over my grandma pulled me up onto her lap.

"Have you ever played Yahtzee?"

I think I might have played with my mom once or twice, but we were more of a Go Fish kind of family.

I shook my head 'no' and I vaguely remember her gasping and shaking her head at my mother for not teaching me the glorious game of Yahtzee sooner.

She explained the game, and I remember her dropping the dice in my tiny nine-year-old hands and wrapping her bony fingers around mine. She whispered the rules in my ear as we let the dice splatter across the table. She explained the ways of the game and I watched as her and Aunt Pat laughed and laughed, yelling and hollering about who was winning and so forth.

I loved it.

But I didn't love it because of the game. I loved it because in that moment I was seeing my grandma. Looking back, it's one of my favorite memories of her.

Bringing me to today. My grandpa (my mom's dad) comes down to Florida every year around Christmas time and spends three to four weeks at my parents' house.

His favorite game is "Cut Throat" (better known as Aggravation). I had never played with him--this is a tradition they've acquired while I've been living away from home.

So I sat down to play this game I'm quite familiar with (my family has always loved to play) and quickly realized why he calls it Cut Throat. It is brutal!

Nevertheless, I laughed harder in that hour playing with my family than I had in a long time--and most of that came from watching my grandfather. He laughed and smiled and hollered loud enough for the neighbors to hear. I hadn't seen him that happy probably ever.

And in that moment, I felt like I was at my grandma's kitchen table all over again. I felt like she was there.

In my heart, I know that she was.