The sound of the playing cards rippling against each other filled my ears as I shuffled them another time. I looked up into my aunt’s eyes as we were about to begin yet another round of “Go Fish”. At the age of six, I had become a master against her, and I loved feeling her laughter fill my heart with joy as another victory fell upon me. Everything felt normal. My family went on a vacation to Pakistan that summer, and I was able to become closer than ever with her. Little did I know, the cards were stacked against her.

Her smile brightened each passing day, no crease of worry shown in her brows, no frown upon her elegant face. It was in the night hours that I would awaken to the sounds of her soft footsteps filling up the quiet stillness as everyone was asleep. I saw her lips moving and heard the sound of her voice as she recited prayers to God. I pondered over what she could be praying about, as I had no clue what was so bothersome that caused her to be up in the dark of the night.

Even though something was amiss, she continued to act normal and complete her daily routines. She would feed my family and I delicious cuisines, play our usual entertaining card games, and continue to finish her tasks. There was never a moment in which she diminished her facade, her pain was so well hidden to the bare eye. Years passed, and she continued to cover up her secret: cancer was taking over her body.

It seemed as if no one bothered to help her, no one tried to push her to the extent of making a change, to help cure her disease. With time, I realized that it was her patience and unselfish regard for others that kept her in this world for as long as she was in it. She treated her condition as if it was an ant under her shoe, not treating it as if it was a life or death situation. 

As time went on, she continued decreasing, and slowly everything she tried hiding came unraveled and revealed the truth. I can still hear her weary and queasy voice on a phone call she had with my mother, barely being able to say a single word. Her beautiful, pure smile no longer stayed painted on her face. The creasing lines of worry and stress finally showed their true colors on her face, the dark circle digging deeper to accentuate her moribund soul. She used to make it seem as though nothing was wrong, and continued to love and care for her family until her last day, but now that it was painfully obvious her time was coming to an end, I had lost hope in everything. 

The day she left this world was sad and painful. The entire world could hear my family’s cries in the serene rainfall that followed, letting her leave this world in peace. 

I remember the day being bittersweet. I knew that her soul was finally calm, gone from the battles this cruel world brought forward. She will live in my heart forever, as her struggles have taught me how to conquer my own. Not a day goes by where I don’t reminisce about my beautiful memories of her. I pay tribute to her through my actions, in the way I carry myself, and in how I hold my ground. I will continue to remember our card games, how she would let me win and claim my small victory, how we would enjoy her delicious handmade sandwiches ever, and how happy I was. My aunt would say, “Spread happiness with a smile on your face, God will make it all better.” She lived by these words, and now I do too.