Suffering in Silence

On a recent spring weekend, I was in Woodstock with my folks. They had a little more pep in their step than usual and on Saturday we decided to hike up Mt. Overlook. Overlook is a spectacular section of the Catskills and at the peak is a magnificent view of the town of Woodstock, the Ashokan reservoir, and the Hudson River. The hike is about 5 miles round trip, the path is well cleared, and it is a moderately challenging hike.

We took our time ascending as my folks, both in their 70s, needed frequent breaks to catch their breath. In all fairness, I needed frequent breaks to catch my breath as well. My mother maintained a steady pace of chatter during the 2.5 miles up the mountain and the 2.5 miles back down. On the descent she started to tire and her chatter became more focused. She said, “My legs are tired. Are your legs tired?”

“Yes, Mom,” I answered.

Another few feet and she said, “I am huffing and puffing. Are you out of breath?”

“Yes, Mom.”

Another few feet and she said, “Boy my heart rate is up. Is yours?”

The observations and exclamations continued in this vein for about a mile, my father and I stopped replying, and gently tuned out the commentary coming from my mother. There was a dramatic change in volume and tone and from about 10 feet behind us my mother bellowed, “WELL DON’T MIND ME! I’M JUST SUFFERING IN SILENCE.”

Top that mom.