A few months ago while I was visiting, Steve happened to drop by. Aunt Lou was having a "good" day after having received chemo days before, and the conversation was light and hopeful. On a whim, I suggested we play canasta, a game I had recently learned and which I had perfected with her help, even if we played only a few hands. We'd stop when she got tired. Steve didn't know how to play, but it somehow came together. My cousin is a quick study and got the rules of the game quickly. My aunt perked up, and so the challenge began. Aunt Lou and Steve vs. Uncle Jerry and Maria. Hand after hand, right to the very end, we played. She didn't tire; she was energized whipping our butts. Aunt Lou and Steve won, but boy how we laughed and joked those few hours. For that brief window of time, the sun parted the clouds and shone over us, over her, and I think we all felt hope. This memory is very precious to me. The power of love and two decks of cards. Aunt Lou, until we meet again at that ultimate canasta table in the sky, I will miss you. I love you, Maria.