… inspired in part by reading Tattoos on the Heart The Power of Boundless Compassion by Gregory Boyle. An excellent read that highlights the power of compassion, the strength found in families (however family is defined) and the impact of telling someone “you matter in this world.” The book is composed of nonfiction stories. I suppose that’s why stories keep bubbling up in my mind.
My brother remembers it as the “rumble in the jungle.” I remember it as the school bus ride from Hades. The short of it is that I was in the 8th grade and he was in the 6th grade. I don’t remember how the message was communicated but somehow during the school day I was told that he was going to get jumped on the bus ride home that afternoon. And he was. And then he remembers me saying, “Get your hands off my brother.” Luckily our older brother had taught us how to make fists ’cause there were plenty of them flying. Eventually the school bus made it back to school, the older boys were suspended, and my brother remembers that no one ever tried touching him again. I remember the principal saying to me, “Cynthia, what were you thinking? How could you get yourself into a fight?” I didn’t reply but the answer was easy. I wasn’t thinking. There was no thought at all involved. No one was messing with my brother but me. Family ties, right?
But what tied my aunt to the girls who wanted to mess with her granddaughter? There was an incident where my aunt had to sit on her brownstone stoop to bar entry to this gang of girls. As I wrote in an earlier post, she said to them, “I do not know why you did what you did to my grandchild. I do not care what you say now, that you want to play and not fight. You shall not enter this house without removing me first.” The girls looked at her, how frail she was. My aunt returned the look and shook her head. “I love my grandchild, do you hear? I love that child and,” she added without hesitation and with great sincerity, “I love you too.” The girls, all of them, walked away without further word. My aunt did not know those girls and yet she did and does still love them. Why?
Other random thoughts flutter through my head like butterflies (in shades of gold and gray and a bit of blue). But I must stop and get up from this computer and head out into a sunny day. Where ever you are in the world, I hope you are having a good Monday.
No poetic words stirred by the nasturtium so far, but it is a delight to photograph its many parts. If you write a poem, please share. 
