Written 20 April, 2007
Indomitable
Yesterday my brother Mordecai Scaggs broke up with his Mistress Maia, and last night Sweetie returned home from a week on the road to find a flooded basement in her apartment and her no-account landlady running sump pumps and dehumidifiers from her electric box—and worse, no internet service, so she could not visit me on the grid. We had another great night on the phone. In fact, we chatted long distance while Mordecai and I played mahjong as he puzzled out just what had happened to his relationship.
I love Mordecai and Sweetie for much the same reasons—they’re heroic. Both are indomitable. I won’t say indefatiguable, because they can be beaten down, but they pop back up like Bobo the inflatable boxing toy, resolute and determined— a little ragged about the edges at first, perhaps, like my windowbox impatiens after a summer rainstorm, but like the flowers, they are blooming like mad a day or two later. My lover, my friend, the flowers, all three have a mad, exultant quality I admire greatly, and which, I hope, somewhat mirrors my own nature.
I can’t begin to say how much I love my Sweetie and my brother and how much I feel for them when the world beats them down. If I can be of help in that brief period between their tragedy and their triumph, I am myself exultant.
Viva, Mordecai!
Viva, Sweetie!
Viva, impatiens!
4 comments:
Viva Cheyenne! Sister mine, you move me to tears with your kind words. If the three of us are indomitable, me, Sweetie, the Busy Lizzies, then it is indeed because we are reflections of your own inner nature. We are able to be mad, exultant, full of life and colour because you are there to see us be so - would we be who we are without you in our lives to witness our antics? If a tree falls in the heart of a forest and there is no one there to see it, does it make a sound?
I am sure I neither know nor care about the second, but as the former, you inform our reality as surely as we inform yours. Thank you sister, for finding a word to describe my essence.
I think this poem might be appropriate.
Invictus!
Yes, they are the captains of their souls.
Thanks.
Mordecai:
Thanks, brother mine.
More important than the forest/tree/sound thing-- goes a particle smoke/flame/bling if no avatar is around?
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