I haven’t though of this in decades but my grandparents used to love Scrabble. I remember being very interested in the game, it was more my speed, only I can’t spell to save my life! That’s a problem with those type of games, but I was always intrigued by it.
Since my grandmother and grandfather used the board and pieces I never touched them. My mother said the grandmother was a chronic nose picker so I kept my distance from the board. Who knows if that’s true, honestly I don’t remember seeing my grandmother ever pick her nose, so where my mother got that is anyone’s guess. However, my non-nose picking grandmother was skilled at talking with her mouth full. ………This is going to be one of those entries I remove after I realize I shouldn’t say this, but I’m not there right now, so I speak on…..lol…..
You know, I’ve looked back on several things in my life and realize that my mother was off her dang on rocker. Sadism aside, Mother was wacked. It’s interesting because, a child who is secluded emotionally and who fears for her life daily, gets her reality from her abuser. I had no reason to question anything I was taught, no reason at all. All I knew was insanity, all I knew was picking up and leaving in the middle of the night and walking on egg shells. I even blamed my sister for being abused. My reality was, if you don’t cry you won’t make her mad and she won’t have to hurt you. If you cry she’s going to feed off it, she’s going to hurt you. then you’re going to cry about that. DON’T CRY! It took forever to erase identifying with the aggressor.
Crying meant she won. It meant she hurt me deeply enough to break my hold of self control. It meant she had another weapon against me and it meant I let my guard down just enough for her to get to me. I didn’t want to give her tears to gloat with or take as a trophy. I thought if I pushed back the fear and concentrated on one object I could get through it. I could manage just about anything without tears, without screaming……that’s what I thought. I was so proud of myself when I got up from a session with her having all my tears, not one dropped. I was proud. No one should ever fight that hard.
It’s funny how when you lose someone all these strange, odd ball memories pop up. I’ve been playing Scrabble against the computer. So far I’ve won 7 of 10 games. It’s enjoyable. If there’s a life lesson in this game its this – the score says you’re behind, you’ve played your last letter, but you can still win the game. The other thing is, just have fun, not everything has a life lesson to it, it’s just a game.