My mother loved her diamond
solitaire ring and wore it all the time. It was a gift from my father, bought
in Hatton Gardens on one of their trips to London. She was delighted with it
and I watched it twinkling like a rainbow on her finger. It would have been
dwarfed by Elizabeth Taylor’s diamond, but it was large enough to be the status
symbol it was intended to be. Sadly, within the year, Mum became ill again and
succumbed to the cancer she had battled off and on for three years. The ring
was eventually passed on to my sister. It sparkles on her hand and looks
lovely. I chose pieces of my mother’s jewellery for what they mean to me, yet I
rarely wear them. There will always be the pain of loss and how life changed.
Singer Andy Williams cover of Neil
Sedaka’s song, ‘Solitaire’. I can’t remember exactly when I first heard it, but
for some reason I associate it with moving into the small bedroom – I think I’d
swapped rooms with my sister – and sorting my belongings into the fitted
furniture. I listened to music all the
time, records or radio and I really liked this song. For a week it was Radio
Luxembourg’s powerplay, every hour, every show. To hear it now throws me right
back to that moment in time and being seventeen.
‘Solitaire’ is a card game to
play solo. I learnt it as ‘Patience’ but it’s the same thing. Cards are set out
in a row of seven, first one face up, others face down. The next row, miss the
first card, place a card face up on the second card then place cards face down
along the rest of the row. Repeat until the last pile has six cards facing down
and one facing up. Remaining cards will come into play as needed. The object of
the game is to place cards in sequence, King at the top, Ace at the bottom, and
alternating red and black. If a face-up card is moved on to another, the face
down card can be turned over. Only a King can move into a space at the top. The
remaining pile of cards can be turned one by one as needed. Completion would be
four columns going from King to Ace in alternate colours. I’ve never introduced
myself to a points system, I’ve just taken it as far as I can then either
started again or made it work out –no, it’s not cheating when you’re playing by
yourself.
I found this poem by John Updike,
Black
queen on the red king,
the seven on the black
eight, eight goes on the nine, bring
the nine on over, place
jack on the queen. There is space
now for that black king who,
six or so cards back,
was buried in the pack.
Five on six, where's seven?
Under the ten. The ace
must be under the two.
Four, nine on ten, three, through.
It's after eleven.
Thanks for reading, Pam x