When I was a little girl, I loved playing board games with all my heart. I was lonely in a house full of children, but when I could get others to circle around a game board everything shifted. Since I was the youngest and my siblings were mostly highly competitive, it wasn’t about winning for me, since this rarely happened, but more about being connected. I remember feeling so much pressure to count and move quickly so I didn’t have to endure the pokes and jabs from my brother Jim, who often wouldn’t let me play, “you are too slow, or you are too young – it says ages 8 & up on the box.” Chutes and ladders and Candyland were different because there was less skill and more luck; and that I usually had. My favorite was chutes and ladders. There was a thrill and victory with every small ascent and an eager anticipation as you neared the huge ladder that took you from the bottom to the top of the board. On the flip side there were tiny slides that felt like a mini defeat and the devastating fall from the top of the board to the bottom after breaking the cookie jar. There was a sense of resilience growing each time you fell down the slide and carried on with hope that you would land on a giant ladder to bring you back. Life is like this.