Last night, we played BUNCO. A large group of us. Wives and husbands. We sat around tables throwing three little dice. I watched these big burly hands that are more accustomed to flying helicopters and planes, to lifting rifles and ammunition, to commanding troops and giving orders, whirl three little dice in the center of the table.
Laughter, applause, cheers filled the room. At least 40 of us gathered to celebrate our beloveds. We shared food, good jokes, drinks, and enjoyed letting our hair down.
I was taken by the image of the burly, chapped hands of the men who love their wives – and go off to war; who love their children – and miss their birthdays; who love their country – and are willing to give their lives. These burly hands played, and enjoyed a “silly” game of BUNCO.
A tradition in the circles of wives. From base to base I go, and always, BUNCO is played. It may seem “silly” to some, but these men, had fun with their wives playing a game that stays constant while we move from place to place.
I guess that is what a beloved does for the other. We play the “silly” games joyfully and in fullness letting go of the dice with enthusiasm.
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