The Cards You're Dealt

It happens every time I see these particular cards. The reaction is there; my breathing stops if even for just a half-second, my fingers pause. I wonder if it shows on my face. It's not like I always see them in my hand when I go through the deck. But when I do.

I toy at the corner of the card, I can almost feel it slide over each ridge of my fingerprint and settle in the troughs between them. My mind instantly replays images of faces, usually with smiles though sometimes tired and weary. I wonder what other people think about when they see the cards.

And so the internal debate begins...keep it? Don't keep it? Will it really matter one way or another? There's no answer to be found anywhere other then inside my head. I bet I'm the only one that even has to think about holding on to it.

More images...conversations, some animated and others, well, dull and mundane chit chat solely for distraction. Laughter. Boredom. Anxiety. And ever so rarely, quiet tears. How is it that a simple card, fanned out among others in your hand can be so...complex? It's not the right word but it's all I keep coming back to.

I run my thumb just slightly over the face of it, the image raised ever so slightly. What the hell - why can't I just decide to keep it or toss it? The decision never gets easier. So maybe I'm making more of it then I should. But that's just it.

They did right so many times. I can honestly say that never once did they let me down. Maybe I should just call. Nah, now I'm really being foolish.

After all, it's been almost 4 years now. What would I even say to my mom's old cardiologist or oncologist? I like to believe they remember my mom. But even if they did, what would we have to talk about? Besides, they have other people who need their time.

They took amazing care of my mother. They placed emphasis on the care part of medical care. They got to know who she was, and what she wanted, and why she was willing to fight so damn hard sometimes. They took the time - their time. They'd visit her at the hospital even when it wasn't "their" issue to be managed that time around.

It meant a lot to me to know that her doctors saw my mom as a person, not just a patient on a chart. Sometimes she'd fight with them - telling them when they could, or could not, treat her depending on the schedule of her grand kids. That had to frustrate them and yet they respected her for it. They cared.

And so once again, I tuck the card back into the stack of all the other newer, currently relevant business cards and snap the rubber band around them. Back in the desk drawer again until the next time I fan through the deck.

These particular cards she was dealt - they were good. I'm willing to bet they're as good for the other families who have these same cards in their hands yet wishing they never had to hold them. I hope so.