When I think of humor in the context of mourning, I recall my grandmother's funeral ten years ago. My family looked at it more as "A Celebration of Life" rather than the traditional funeral. After the official eulogy, my mother, brother, and I spoke. My comments were short snippets of memories and experiences with Grandma. Here's one:

I think my fondest memories of Grandma were playing cards together. Years ago, most of the times I spent with her, we played cards.

Grandma won every card game I have ever played with her, except one. Two years ago we were playing cribbage and I had several lucky hands in a row. But now I'm wondering whether she didn't switch her hand with mine after the deal.

Anyway, she made it fun. And the hope that "this time I will win" was enough to play again - enough to play for years. This past December I visited Grandma and asked not to have a meal: I just wanted to play. I wanted a day like we used to have. When I arrived, we broke out the cards and cribbage board. We played for hours that day. It was one of my happiest days last year.

Learn more about this author, Matthew Spearman.
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