My Scrabble Buddy

Today I give thanks for Shimon. He is my nephew, just two years younger than me always and forever since we were born, son of my half-brother on my father's side. But really he is so much more than that. He is like the brother I never had. When we were children we played with dinky cars and maneuvered them into each others' parking spaces. When we were young, he taught me that by pushing my lips together and flapping them as I blow through them with all my might, I could turn a raspberry sound into the rumble of a truck.

Shimon is one of the first people I communicate with every morning for years. He is the person I laugh with - until my sides split - until my stomach aches - until tears roll down my cheeks. All he has to do is lift his baby finger while drinking a glass of anything, especially at a dinner party with all kinds of guests present - and I start to laugh uncontrollably, embarrassingly, shamelessly. Indeed, I sometimes have to leave the table to gain control of my behavior. He understands me perfectly well, and has the intelligence and emotional insight that matches mine word for word - feeling for feeling. On the few occasions I get to stay over at his house, we both get up very early in the morning and whisper and laugh quietly so as not to wake anyone else up. He and I made a pact years ago that we would never have a falling out (he calls it a "ferebel") - no matter what! We have been there and done that and did not like it - no sirree - do not believe in it. And so, we tell each other our troubles, talk things out, tell each other the truth about how we feel. We know how to apologize and love one another through thick or thin, rain or snow, and, especially, Scrabble wins or Scrabble defeats!

For, you see: Shimon is my Scrabble Buddy! Every day, year after year we play our moves - he in his corner of the country, and me in mine. We are very competitive, and without guilt or shame, set out to beat one another to a proverbial pulp, over and over again. As one game ends, so we immediately start up another one. But we are terribly good sports about the battle of our wits to wits end, and rejoice in each others' winnings directly after we overcome any hideous rage or frustration we might be experiencing about the 7-letter words the other has just made. 

Our greatest delight came when The PixiePit developed SuperScrabble - indeed, we have never looked back. What could be better? A HUGE Scrabble Board with tens upon tens of letters and - get this! - QUADRUPLE-LETTER and QUADRUPLE-WORD scoring ability! A Scrabble lover's dream come true. For, in SuperScrabble, we can make an astronomically huge score, like when we hit two double-word scores with a 7-letter word, or once (or twice?) Shimon has landed his 7-letter words on two triple-worders. Me oh my! Those were humdingers of a score, let me tell you!

And so, today - day four of my count-down to Thanksgiving, I am thankful for Shimon. I dedicate this post to him most especially because he has made it safe for me to love him and be loved in return - no conditions - except that we are who we are, bound forever by our affiliation with my Grandfather and his Great-Grandfather Moise - although, I doubt that we would ever let the other win the next Scrabble game ... ever.

A year ago at Mining Nuggets: Morning person reflections

Comments

[Michael]

I am so pleased you and Shimon enjoy playing Scrabble at my web site Tamar !

[tamarika]

Hm ... not quite accurate, Nefsky! For, I have noticed you winning 3 in a row - what a stretch, challenging my wits and having me huff and puff to just keep up.
Love ya to bits and pieces!
Always.

[Shimon]

Tamar! This is as egregious as a presidential press-leak!

Whoever's reading this needs to know that she beats me 2 times out of 3. If that isn't a good enough reason to be ferebeled, I don't know what is!