![Cecily Horne](/sites/default/files/styles/large/public/2024-01/Cecily%20Horne%20playing%20the%20blue%20ball_0.jpg?itok=fFxuYnqF)
Playing the Blue Ball
Cecily Horne fades into the background these days. Just like the serpent of Epidaurus on Aesculapius’ staff on the left side of her chair is hard to see in the painting. Blink and you miss it. Look twice and you still do not know what it is. Until someone prompts you. And of course now you know,…
Cecily Horne fades into the background these days. Just like the serpent of Epidaurus on Aesculapius’ staff on the left leg of her chair is hard to see in the painting. Blink and you miss it. Look twice and you still do not know what it is. Until someone prompts you. And of course now you know, care, relate. Or you don’t!
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Cecily is more than a retired pharmacist and a casual pickle ball player who migrated to New Zealand from South Africa decades ago. Yet - who cares enough to ask migrants or old people questions that require complex answers?
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Cecily loves her family and enjoys her own company. She loves a robust debate and does not mind being misunderstood or ignored. But she dislikes small talk. So she keeps mostly to herself - dreams, ponders, inquires, researches and pays more attention to the birds in the garden than most people pay attention to each other.
I thought Cecily was half blind and almost suggested for her to take an eye test when I first met her on a wintry Wednesday night at Pickle Ball at Tauranga Boys’ College. A few weeks later, we happened to play with a blue ball instead of the orange or yellow tournament balls. Cecily hit almost every ball perfectly. She was vibrant, youthful and joyous. I had never seen her like that. The following week, she was relieved to see me again, because most people didn't want to play with the blue ball - mainly out of habit. This vibrant woman looked shy, half blind and more withdrawn again. Yet, the other players did not believe her when she said she could see the blue ball much better. I heard someone say, "If you say so dear.” And that almost broke my heart. I told Cecily not to be so Kiwi and ask for the blue ball, at least sometimes. She looked at me with some despair and replied, “I tried to be Kiwi all my life.”
Maybe we could use Cecily’s Zeiss binoculars to make sure we do not miss the obvious and share the wonderful little inconsequential moments in our lives with the people around us.
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