I remember thinking my dad’s weekly poker night was the most important thing to him and you know I hated it back then all the noise and the smoke and the late nights and now he’s 78 and his game is just… gone and there’s only two left, old Mr. Henderson and Mrs. Rodriguez who mostly just watches and it’s just another thing that melts away like sand in your hand and you just gotta watch it happen and I just sit there and listen to him talk about it and it’s like a quiet hum you hear but don’t really hear if that makes sense and it’s just kinda there but it doesn't really land and I guess I should feel more but I just don’t.