I have happy memories of Uncle Lee. He had a way of making you feel seen; it didn't seem to matter if you were four or fourteen or forty, he always was genuinely interested in hearing how you've been, what you'd been up to, or what you thought about that. He teased a little, as uncles do, but he laughed with you, not at you. I respected and admired that gentle man with the patient tone of voice, that he extended to everyone.
But bring out a deck of cards after supper, and partner up for schmear and all bets were off! Grandma's tiny kitchen would erupt in outbursts, squeals and laughter as he cunningly stole point after point from under our noses, laying that winning card from high overhead with flare and flourish and laughing with glee. Groans of defeat turned to giggles all round. You couldn't help it. Grandma never played but she giggled too, and clapped her hands. I learned to love the game just watching him, and I couldn't help but admire his skill and intense enjoyment of the moment. We'd sometimes play late into the night on those Christmases at Grandma's because..."one more game?" It never really was a competition, just so much fun! RIP Uncle Lee. I hope you're enjoying one more game.