We play poker once a month,
the whole group of eight or ten of us.
But four of us, the founders,
have been together longer
and we meet every week or two
for lunch and to treat
one another with disdain,
annoyance, combativeness
and love.
And when any of us
is in trouble
the other three
are
always there.
That’s the strangest part,
that “always.”
It’s partly the case because
none of us necessarily
deserve it
and that is also
the reason
that each of us, from one another,
totally expect it
and know we can count on it —
Love is many things
but it’s never deserved
or to be expected when it is
demanded —
it’s given freely,
when one decides to give it
and when one decides to accept it.
There’s a high price tag
for this love,
like going through
the brain cancer
that is killing
our brother’s wife.
Being there for him,
always,
and him knowing it
and our knowing it,
always.
If you don’t live up to this cost
you won’t get it, because you can’t afford it
and because . . .
so few things in life
can be counted upon
Always,
Always.
And yes,
“always” does exist.
I saw it at lunch today
and I see it every month
over Texas Hold ‘em.
