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Learning to Play Mah Jongg With My Mother-in-Law’s Set
Wanted: a fourth for mah jongg, to play Tuesday afternoons in the 2 South Social Room. Call Eudice in 273 South.
It’s been five years since my mother-in-law tacked the note she had scrawled onto the bulletin board in the auditorium at Sholom Home, the nursing home in St. Louis Park, Minn., where she lived. “I wish you played mah jongg,” said Eudice, who was 90. “Then you could be our fourth.”
Over the years, she had urged me to learn mah jongg so I could join her and her friends. But I had neither time nor interest. I had a husband, three kids and a dog. I volunteered, worked part time and, when I wanted to socialize, I had my own circle.
I was familiar with the game, because my mother, who passed away in 2004, used to play with her friends from the sisterhood of Temple Israel in Minneapolis. I remember their laughter filling the house, along with the gentle clack of the tiles when they pushed and mixed them along our oak kitchen table. My mother served a lovely lunch for her girls, often a sandwich loaf she ordered from the synagogue caterer—a bygone concoction that came with a layer of chicken salad, egg salad and tuna salad bound by Miracle Whip and lacquered with a thick coating of cream cheese studded with sliced olives.
Occasionally, the ladies were still playing when my brothers and I got off the bus, at which point we were relegated to our rooms until they wrapped up. Being ignored so she could socialize left the three of us feeling usurped by a part of her life that had nothing to do with us kids. Once, my older brother doused a piece of Kleenex with stink “perfume” from his chemistry set. He walked into the kitchen and casually tossed his homemade sulfur bomb under the table. Within minutes, shrieks filled the house, and my mother screamed, “Alan!” The ladies quickly left, and I don’t remember my mother playing again after that.
Years later, I couldn’t imagine whiling away an afternoon playing games while my kids were at school. And even when they no longer needed my daily attention, I still could not justify socializing when there were so many other things I could be doing.
Instead, I helped my mother-in-law tack up her ad, and she found her fourth. Every Tuesday, I went to Sholom Home to set the table for her game. Following Eudice’s instructions, I put out crackers and cheese, plates of cookies, bowls of chocolates, a pitcher of ice water and four large Styrofoam cups with straws. I wrote each woman’s initials on her cup so they wouldn’t get mixed up.
This went on for a few months until her health rapidly declined—and then she was gone. Her death in 2015 left an enormous void in my life. I was charged with cleaning out her room, since one of her daughters lived out of town and the other worked full time.
As I sorted through my mother-in-law’s possessions, I came across the tattered brown leather case holding her mah jongg set, her name embossed in a narrow strip of plastic adhered to the outside. Inside, the tiles were bright yellow, smooth and shiny. I was surprised to see a worn Ziploc sandwich bag holding eight extra tiles. They were painted with 1960s-era red nail polish.
I took the case home and slid it under a couch. It held a lifetime of memories for my mother-in-law, who had been a Hadassah life member like my mother and myself, and I thought it should stay in the family.
A short time later, a friend phoned to say that Adath Jeshurun Synagogue in Minnetonka was starting beginner mah jongg classes. Would I like to make up the fourth in her group? My three children had all left home, and I missed my mother and mother-in-law. I told my friend that I had a set and would love to learn.
At the start of the class, we went around the room and talked about our sets, most of them inherited from our mothers. We discovered that baggies of nail polish-painted extra tiles lurked inside many of our cases. We learned that the rules of the game changed often—for example, the number of jokers allowed. All of us, it seemed, had watched a previous generation connect and socialize over the exotic tiles with Chinese lettering, but none of us had ever learned to play.
Within four weeks, my group was adept enough to play one evening a month. That was three years ago. Today, we rotate houses and craft a potluck supper that includes wine, Caffeine Free Diet Dr Pepper and Maker’s Mark bourbon. One night, I even procured a throwback sandwich loaf from the last store in town that made them.
Today, we are proficient enough to play and talk at the same time. We discuss politics and find common ground. We all lost our mothers to breast cancer. We comfort each other, including me after cancer took the life of my close friend and neighbor. We share worries and emotional pain, like when our kids—there are 10 among us—break up with boyfriends and girlfriends, or navigate the minefield of long-distance relationships. One of us became a grandma, and her daughter used FaceTime during a game so we could say hello to baby Theo. Most joyously, my mah jongg ladies danced at my daughter’s wedding last spring.
And this spring, as we kept to our homes to avoid the spread of the coronavirus, we began exploring online options, so that we could play on our laptops while we Zoom or FaceTime.
Mah jongg has become a vehicle to build connections, both with my friends and with our pasts. When I reverently open Eudice’s case each time, I am hit with the smell of leather and something I can’t identify—like nothing I’ve ever experienced and can only think of as “mah jongg smell.”
I finally have responded to her ad for a fourth player.
Stacy Gallop, when she is not playing mah jongg, writes for various publications. She is working on a Jewish historical novel.
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Sharon says
You & your friends can try RealMahJongg. Com
Gloria Murman says
I’ve shared to play on that site too, Carol. Highly recommend it. Eudice was a wonderful woman. She is so missed!
Carol Rosenthal says
I loved your mom, Stacy. She was a Hadassah mentor to so many of us. But my passed down mahj set looks identical to the picture! Red nail polish tiles and all!! And I have a ziploc bag of extra tiles too. I miss my mom so much but I think it’s time to go play mahj even if it’s with the dog! Take care. She was an amazing women!
Stacy Gallop says
Thank you for your kind words. Saying I was lucky to have her as a mother-in-law is a vast understatement!
Celeste Reingold says
I too have a set just like the one pictured-in fact 2 sets-one was my mothers and the other my aunt’s -my mother’s twin sister. My aunt’s was given to me by my cousins upon her passing. It has become a joke, but who knows the truth-when I play with my Aunt’s set I win-I get jokers-I make good decisions . When I told my mother about my good luck, we both laughed and said my Aunt always wanted to be in charge and now she was in charge of my winning at mah jong!! And I love the red nail polish- my friends get the joker stickers but I like the old time feel of the nail polish-my Aunt was alive when I received my mother’s set and she polished my tiles!!!
Rick says
Great post! Love all these ladies. I think there is more ‘drinking’ than playing❤️
Paul Gotlieb says
What a great story!!!
Kitty Widdes says
Stacy,
Thanks so much for your fun article! My mother-in-law (ex) was Jeanette Altman, Eudice was her best friend. I smile remembering growing up watching them play mahj with my mom, Helen Widdes. Now my daughter has inherited Jeanette’s set and has learned to play with her girlfriends. She and my niece are now teaching their daughters and they’ve been playing “virtually” with my sister. I’m still the holdout but do enjoy these precious memories!
Patti Frisch says
I have my Aunt Faye Krupp’s set, and although i haven’t needed to use it, it is intact. Now that I’ve started playing myself (at age 76!) i think I know why my mom and her Duluth friends played together for decades. I think i really wanted to start playing so I could say “1 crack; 1 bam..” and relive those years where I, too, thought it was a waste of time! And, now… here I am! My group in Tucson also plays while we talk on speaker phones to each other.
Stacy, you are lucky to have had Eunice. We Duluthians all loved and admired her.
Norman Cohen says
You have such a gift in telling stories, but especially when it conveys such family love! Thank you. Keep writing. Can’t wait to read your Jewish historical novel!
Jody Weinberg says
Stacy, I finally read this. A beautiful story & tribute to your mother-in-law. As I said in my previous post, I’d love to play online for now. And I just received my first set & am looking forward to playing & the clack of the files again!
Natalie says
I am playing with the exact same Bakelite mahjong set, also inherited from my Mum. Brought set with me from Montreal thru two moves and finally retired and learned to play. Each time I use the set memories come flooding back. I now play virtually on myjongg.net until our weekly group can meet up again.
Jamie Milavetz says
Stacy. What a beautiful story you have crafted. I really enjoyed reading your piece, and it brought back sweet nostalgic memories. It was a different era, in that there was less helicoptering parenting, but plenty of love and time from Mom. You probably didn’t have time to add when Mr. Dooby (our Hamster) escaped and terrorized Mom’s mahjong game. That, along with the stink perfume seemed to happen closely in time. Finally, where can I get that sandwich loaf? Strange yearning. Love, Jamie
Sheryl Cohen says
My eyes teared up with such lovely memories when I read your story. Although my Mom Fredell Cohen was on the bridge side of Eudice’s world, I feel like all I had to do was replace the word “tiles” with “cards” and it would be my experiences watching bridge when I grew up. I fondly remember how when Eudice would visit the cities from Duluth for a Hadassah meeting that she’d always try to arrange a game before she went back home. Makes me smile how Hadassah has brought such lovely people together!
Barbara Ripps says
What a beautiful story. Thank you. One of my goals before I retired as a teacher was to relearn Mah Jongg (played when I was a little girl and remember my mother having her games at our house with all of the candy etc.) and have a group of women to play with on a regular basis. Well, that was done and I have been playing for several years with two different groups. Now of course, I play with some of them on myjongg.net to keep myself knowledgeable about the new card and also to keep my brain sharp in between correcting my students’ work on line or after my work day is over. I love the social aspect of the game but also love the mental acuity of the game. I am so very happy that no matter where I am in life, I will have the love of Mah Jongg.
Jamie Corwin Martinez says
I graduated SLP high in 1980. I was confirmed at Temple Israeli My mom still lives in Mtka. and still plays at 82. She’s a substitute teacher at Adath in the preschool. I have been playing the last 9 years or so here in Albuquerque. I loved this story. Thank you!
Sue Gitlin Cherlin says
Enjoyed the article. I am a product of the 40’/50’s, but couldn’t use my mother’s set. I didn’t start playing until early 2000. It was so yellowed with paste on joker decals etc. So When I was in Florida on a visit I bought a set at a large flea market south of Boynton Beach and have been playing since then. However, I am now playing online with my group on Real Mah Jong. It’s a great way to get together with our friends.
Claudia Grossman says
My mother-in-law has been an avid mahjong player for the last 60 years. And while I myself do not play, I have always been intrigued by the beauty and the sound of her mahjong tiles. They were the inspiration for my novel, The Mermaid Mahjong Circle — A Fairy Tale for Women, available on amazon.com and bn.com. It might be something you’d be interested in. Thanks for sharing your lovely story!
Sheila Raskin says
I play on that site often. Watch for me. I’d love to play with you
Sheila1848. Now playing 2022 rules. Join me
Sheila Raskin says
I’m originally from St Paul now living in Fl. No snow is grand.