Ostomy Memories Scrabble

If you have an ostomy, and you snack while playing a table game, you’ll be excusing yourself during the game to take care of business. This I did, one afternoon, while visiting my mother’s house and playing Scrabble. We had a years long history of this: when I came home for a holiday during college; when she visited me after I’d gone off on my own; when we got together after she’d gotten older and moved in with my sister. Just recently, in fact, long after my mother’s death, my sister informed me that she’d discovered, tucked away in a drawer somewhere, amongst my mother’s “effects,” all the pads of Scrabble scores going back decades. The game, it would seem now, at least to her, was serious business. And it reminded me of an incident, long ago, that disturbed me at the time but had faded into the mists of the past. My mother and I were playing Scrabble. I had placed my word down and left the table to go to the bathroom. One of her diminishing faculties, in those years, was her losing her hearing, so she likely did not hear the toilet flush. As I came out, with a clear view down the hallway, through the living room, to the table in the dining room where she sat, I could see her rifling through the tile bag, looking to improve her prospects. My mother was cheating. How is a dutiful son supposed to deal with this kind of discovery? I thought to myself, remembering my childhood, that she probably cheated then to let me win when we played cards. It’s just a game, after all. You let the child win. So I made it simple. I said nothing. I was returning the favor.

Oh heck, Henry... I always cheat at Scrabble! I thought everyone did! But it was good you let your mom win... except maybe she was putting her high score tiles back in the bag... so YOU could win! Moms are like that, you know. Great memory... thanks for sharing.

Regards,

bob

Hello HenryM. 

Thank you so much for the glimpse into your scrabble history. I took me back to the days when we had a regular scrabble meeting and I alway owned up to 'cheating' before the game began and challenged my opponents to 'catch' me. ( If caught - I would forfeit a go. This was a LITTLE GAME WE PLAYED ON THE SIDE. I also suggested another 'rule' whereby if anyone challenged a word as being 'wrong' and it turned out to be right, then the challenger lost a point- which would be given to whoever was challenged.  This added extra gave people something to focus on in terms of potential 'cheating'.

Nobody ever caught me cheating because they made the assumption that people always cheat to win. 

Here is the concept I wrote in rhyme to capture the skill and art of 'losing' in order to enable someone else to 'win'. 

Don't you just love grandparents - who have developed different value systems from may years of experience!

Best wishes

Bill

TO LOSE AND YET TO WIN.

Winners always think they’ve won
when once the game they play is done.
For them the secret of success
must be to win and to impress.

It is their focus and their aim
to be the winner in their game.
These people are not altruists
for them, no other game exists.

I understand this sentiment
but find it an impediment.
For winning means that someone’s lost
and therein lays the hidden cost.

For me there is a subtle charm
to live my life and do no harm.
So why would I put someone down
or be the cause of someone’s frown.

There is a certain satisfaction
that can flow from selfless action.
So I have made a specialty
of losing games with subtlety.

When people start to play a game
they think opponents play the same.
They will assume ‘all’ want to win
within their game or discipline.

But I don’t want to win at all
for that might make another small.
So if I am obliged to play
I contribute a different way.

I make out that I play real hard.
but it’s really a charade.
My aims within the games I choose
is eventually to lose.

                                 B. Withers 2012

Hah, it never occurred to me that she might be putting in her K and her Q and taking out an i and a r to help ME win!  Bob, believe me, that wasn't what was happening.  I knew the woman.  Thanks for your comment.