Hymowitz Family Card Games

by Rymo Hymowitz

“My great-great-grandmother taught my grandma how to play, who then taught my mom and her five siblings how to play. Because of this, we all play 1930s bridge.”

Hello. My name is Rymo and I'm going to talk about what family means to me. My family plays a lot of card games. At Thanksgiving we play Bridge, but at home we play Hearts, Euchre and Spades, depending on whose turn it is to pick. During cards, each of our personality shines through in how we play. My mom is super competitive and reads the fun facts on the card. My brother Michael has the entire game mapped out in his head and is annoyed that we aren't playing with Bicycle Cards. My brother Mark is pretending he doesn't care, in order to bother my dad, but is actually pretty good. My dad is annoyed that we are chatting because he can't concentrate, and I am teasing my brothers. Usually Michael or my mom wins, but since he went to college, I have slowly climbed up the leaderboard.

Michael and my mom like Bridge so much that they play at a senior center over the summer. At the beginning of every game, there's always a spirited debate on which game to play. My dad wants to play Bridge, because he likes team games and hopes to improve at the hardest one. Michael insists on Hearts. He doesn't like playing Bridge with the immediate family because my dad and I don't know the lingo. Plus, in Hearts, he doesn't have to worry about a partner bringing him down.

My mom doesn't care what we play. No matter what game, she will enjoy it and probably do well. I always want Hearts because I can control my fate in the game. As the game continues, I slowly stop counting cards and begin asking how many more hands. Michael and my mom are still into the game. Michael slams down cards and my mother thinks, for what feels like hours, on how to respond.

Michael would also like the game to end though. He has tons of homework. Gaming usually ends because somebody wins, it's past my dad's bedtime, or the queen of spades is dropped on me for the third time in a row, so I quit, complaining that I'm being picked on. We inherited this practice of playing cards from my mom's family. My great-great-grandmother taught my grandma how to play, who then taught my mom and her five siblings how to play. Because of this, we all play 1930s Bridge.

One of my mom's youngest brother was eight. She taught him how to play in order to have two games going at once. Each of my mom's siblings play slightly differently. My aunt Susan is very intense about the game and will get very angry if you don't lead back her suit. My aunt Eleanor just plays for the social aspect. At Thanksgiving, Bridge playing takes over the entire day.

This Thanksgiving, I realized how much my siblings and my tactics are inherited from my mother's siblings and my grandparents. My mom was always Michael's partner, and Michael played so similar to her brother, that she started accidentally calling him her brother's name. My grandma was my partner. Just like my mom, she had an entire hand planned out in her head. I play like my aunt Eleanor. I just want to have fun.

While I complain about playing cards—a lot—I am grateful to have a family that can sit down together and just hang out. Playing cards has helped me define what family means to me. To me, family is spending time together, joking around with each other, and being yourself. Spending time with each other allows our bond to go stronger. Between hands, we talk about our day and what's going on in our lives. Joking around makes sure we don't take ourselves too seriously.

Also, teasing each other is a stress reliever. While playing cards, no one is worried about homework or tests, we are just laughing around with each other. Around my family, I am the truest version of myself. I don't care if I seem lame or like I'm too into the game. I can cry about losing or obnoxiously celebrate when I win. I know that my family will still love me no matter if I play terribly or am killing it.

Without cards, I wouldn't have this definition. I would say that my family is just people I live with, and share DNA with. There wouldn't be this connection that cards allows us to practice. Cards, or I guess my parents, forces us to be together when we would otherwise just be locked in our rooms.