Games Night

Feb. 2^nd

Last night was the first games night since her death. I had experienced a certain reluctance to go; games night is so rich in memories of K.B., it might just be too painful to walk in that door again and look out over the tables with board games set up on them and know she would never be joining us again. Games night was where we met; it was where we discovered we had shared interests in baking, reading, rocks and gems, port—not to mention board games! It was where we learned we were both single but did not wish to be.

Outside the house where games night is held we started talking one evening about matters of the heart for the first time, and that conversation led to us thinking we should get together between games nights, so we went for supper at a local Indian restaurant (we also learned we both loved Indian food). It was at the Christmas games night at the very end of 2012 where she came in, walked over to the where table I was sitting, and thrust a game at me with a huge smile on her face, saying, “What do you think I got for Christmas?” Of course, her left hand was perfectly positioned to display her ring finger with the exquisite aquamarine engagement ring on it.

Games night attendees were also the greatly privileged recipients over the years of her delicious creations: damson plum jam tarts, almond croissants, fudge, cookies of every description. Her generosity inspired me to bring baking, too.

I wondered if all of us there might find it hard not to dwell on her absence. But people got absorbed in their games, as they always do. I had arranged with N., the host and a good friend of K.B., that we would toast her with port, which she learned to love at games night, so that is what we did. N. provided the eloquent words and I provided the Taylor Fladgate. 

The best part of the evening was that K.B.’s son, who had not been a regular attendee in a long time, showed up with two friends. Being with him again in that setting lightened my mood immensely. He was laughing and entering enthusiastically into the spirit of “Dragon Delta.” It felt like the most wonderful gift to be with him as he was so obviously enjoying himself. The feeling of lightness swelled within me until it seemed akin to joy…the first time I have had this feeling since January 10^th.

Was it just the fact that I could see that he was able to smile and have a good time? Or was it the enormous sense of relief when he said that he planned to come regularly to games night again? Or was it that merely looking at him, one knows that K.B. is living on through him? His face is her face; the wonderful young man he is is a tribute to her skills and wisdom as a mother. The sense of elation at being with him buoyed me all evening and all the way home. Still having him—and the rest of K.B.’s family—in my life make the unbearable more nearly bearable.