Nine days ago, while looking for something completely different, I found my dad’s list of winning poker hands. While growing up, playing poker was a big part of my life. Boys tend to share sports with their father, my father and I bonded over gambling. In my youth, I was an observer. I enjoyed watching the men play, I don’t recall my mother or sister ever participating, it made me feel special to be allowed near the table, even if it was just to watch. At other times, my dad taught me about playing Black Jack and Solitaire. He told me about the Vegas rules of playing these games. True or not, it made me feel like I was a winner playing Solitaire for $5 per card I was able to get to the foundation, the four piles one builds on the aces.
I honestly don’t recall the first time I was allowed to sit at the table and play with the men, but I do know that I did participate in poker night while in my twenties. That was when I was married and my brother still lived in town. My then, husband’s friend joined us as well. I had an interesting relationship with this person, mere words cannot describe the connection we shared. His actions compelled me to refer to him as a “pig”. On countless occasions, I called him a “pig”, but it was an inside joke. I liked to play the poker game we called Five and Dime, fives and tens were wild. One night, while he was thinking about the game he would deal, I put my fingers to my temple as if I were trying to manipulate his mind into choosing to play Five and Dime. Suddenly, he began to slap his own face and said, “I’m a pig, I’m a pig, I’m a pig!” That memory makes me laugh to this day.
One wonders if that relationship was a missed opportunity, but I know in my heart, I played my hand correctly when I choose an opportunity to have children over passion. It sounds corny, but life really is like playing a game of poker. If given the choice, I would not choose to play the cards I was dealt differently. On poker night, there were so many heated arguments over which hand beats what, so my dad wrote it out on one of his index cards with the infamous P-Touch label clearly stating that 5 of a kind, beat all.
While sipping a glass of wine, I think it’s fair to make the statement that most of my life, I have been dealt one or two pairs. Now, depending on the game, those could be mediocre hands, but in others, winners. I tend to feel that life is a game of stud, one is dealt a set number of cards and that is all one must play with. Being a woman of size, I felt that I didn’t have many options, so I played my hand to the best of my ability, with what I had and knew at the time. I had a 50/50 chance of winning, and that was good enough for me.
When wild cards come into play, that’s when the game changes. Even if the game is stud, there’s a solid chance at getting anywhere from three of a kind to a full house or better. I’d like to think that type of game more aptly reflects my thirties, when I became a single mom. I had no idea how to play the hand that was being dealt to me, but by sheer luck and perseverance, I managed to give my kids a decent life. We didn’t have everything the Jones had, but I managed to stay home for them and eek out a living that provided them necessities, plus a little bit more.
Draw: This is when a player is allowed to discard and receive new cards. One does not know if one is giving up something worthy of building on and one most definitely does not know what value the new cards may hold. I most definitely was playing a game of draw when I discovered internet dating. I was in my forties and my ex-husband had come back into our lives after being completely absent for six years. When he told me that his cheating on me had nothing to do with me, it was just another one of his addictions, I finally felt released from my wedding vows. I had gone from only ever being with one man, to…well, you get the picture. Hand after hand, I thought I was going to beat them all with a royal straight flush, but the reality was, I got Nada! Lie after, lie after, lie, but I kept believing that I had the winning hand and placed my bets. Fortunately, I didn’t lose a fortune, just some self-esteem and dignity.
Now, that I am nearing the end of my fifties, I feel I have learned how to play poker with more intelligence. Some may say that I “need to get out there”, but I beg to differ. I’m at a point in my life where I am very comfortable in my own skin. I do not require the adoration (not that I ever had it) of a significant other. Without shame, I dare say, I may adore myself. I’m very happy with the cards I’ve been dealt and how I am playing them. I’m working long hours, but without regret. I feel like I’m on the verge of winning the biggest pot of my life. Yes, my children will always be my greatest reward, but there’s something on the horizon, I can feel it.
I’m planning the work and working the plan. I’m following all the rules of the game at hand. However, I want more than $5 per card on the foundation. I’m at a point in my life, where I’m willing to go all in. It’s like when one has almost a straight flush, but if ones dare to draw, one may get cards that leaves one with a measly pair, or …a royal straight flush. And, if there are wild cards involved, which I feel there are, damn. What happens, if I get 5 of a kind?
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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