Hollow Reed ~ From: Tales by my sons' mom

"My body is like a hollow reed.  Troubles blow through me like the wind".™Balki Bartokomous 


Growing up, my sons were not big TV watchers, but every now and then we enjoyed a sitcom together.  Perfect Strangers was one of these shows that we laughed about long after it was over, even now more than a decade later.  Balki Bartokomous had hilarious catchphrases that we repeated to make a point or just randomly.


The boys played many different sports but settled on tennis in high school.  They were on the JV and varsity teams and played against different high schools in the area.  I, of course, was at every single one of these matches.  They were after school and often ended close to dinner time.  I had the family's dinner cooked, my  hat and sunglasses on and ready to cheer.  I volunteered to drive, bring bagels and juice, or whatever else was needed.  I enjoyed chatting with the other parents too, and naturally I wanted my boys to win!  


There was a problem, however.  Tennis is not a "cheerleading" sport.  Tennis spectators sit or stand politely, don't make a sound and every now and then do a little "royal" clapping.  This was not football.  Parents did not coach from the sidelines, did not fight, just waved perhaps once or twice.  This was going to be very difficult for me.  Sure enough, trouble was ahead.


The match was at our high school that afternoon, behind my backyard, right past the baseball field.  I was late getting there and found Mike struggling a bit in his game.  Being my son's mother, I knew he was losing focus because he was behind.  I waited for that comeback but it wasn't happening. 


It started with guilt.  I should not have been late!  I was sure he would not have fallen behind if his mother was there from the start.  Then motherly responsibility set in.  I had to do something. I had to find a way to get Mike's attention and tell him to relax and focus.  


I walked around the court to his side, but now he couldn't see me and I wasn't supposed to speak.  I walked back to the other side, facing him, waved gently;  that didn't work; then I waved a little more frantically.  Mike looked at me, I winked and mouthed words like, you have to relax hokiss, just breathe, focus, you can do this, you have this next one.  He winked back and looked away.  Obviously, he wasn't good at lipreading.  


The need to reassure, support and encourage him was just too much, it was like a pressure cooker inside me.  I thought if I used a cryptic message, others wouldn't understand and I could get away with it.  At worst,  they'd think I've lost my mind.  So I started softly at first:  I'm a hollow reed.  I'm a hollow reed.  I'm a hollow reed.  I had no success with that.  Mike just could not hear me.  I raised my voice gradually.  Hollow Reed.  Hollow Reed.  It was shorter, more to the point.  This time some people looked, the opponent looked.  If Mike heard me, he pretended he didn't know me.  This was not working.  I had no choice at all. 


HOLLOW REED!  HOLLOW REED!  HOLLOW REED!


Then I walked around to a new spot, with the strategy to confuse people as to where these words were coming from.  I was getting ready to repeat it when I felt someone tapping my shoulder.  It was Mike's coach.  He said, "Mike says maybe you should go home now" and he left.  


And so I walked home.  I don't remember if Mike was upset with me or not, but I do remember that he won that match and I take full credit for it.




*This is a true story.  

The Crochet Runner

War was raging back home and communication with my family was difficult and sporadic.  I missed my mother terribly even though I was happy here.  In one of my letters, I asked her to make me one of her beautiful crochet pieces.  I wanted to put it on my foyer table to remind me of her and make my apartment feel more like home.  I measured the table and told her to make it 8x12.

A few months later, a package arrived from home with my runner in it.  I stood there looking at it, confused why mom would send me this. What was it?  Then I saw the note ~ " It boggled my mind why you would ask for something like this.  What could you possibly use it for?  Your father, sisters and I cannot think of anything.  But here it is, hokiss, I tried my best to fit as much of the design in as I could. I hope you like it and you use it in health."

I laughed. It sits pretty in a small rectangular plate on my dressing table now and makes me smile each time I look at it.  I had forgotten that measurements were in centimeters back home, not inches.  So instead of a 8x12 inch runner, I had gotten a 8x12 cm one. 

Birthday Lunch

The 6 friends sat around a table in a quiet corner of the restaurant.  They talked about the usual stuff; what they’d done this month, their husbands, the children and their new/old girl friends or boy friends, how late the service was and how delicious lunch was when they finally got it.  They laughed a lot and gave each other advice on everything from getting rid of japanese beetles to vacation spots.

Marilyn opened her cards and they passed them around, proud of having found the funniest one or the most fitting one.  They divided the bill by 5 and paid wishing their friend a happy birthday again.  Once everyone had used the restroom and they were all sitting around the table again, Marilyn spoke with no pause between the sentences.   “I have something to tell you but please nobody freak out I have breast cancer and the surgery is tomorrow”

For a second or two nobody spoke, then they all started together.  What, where, how, who, how long, how far, how much, shall we come, what next.  Then when they got their answers, We’ll be here, what can we do, we’ll be praying, we’ll support, we’ll make you laugh, take DC cd with you (guess who said that), we love you.  Then they all laughed about the new boobs Marilyn would be sporting at their next luncheon.  

In the parking lot, they hugged some more, talked some more, and then each one got into her car and shed a tear.. or two.

Marilyn’s surgery is tomorrow morning at 9 am.  I’ll be saying a prayer.  How about you?

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