GrowingOlderHopeWiser

Goldie, the ginger tomcat, ruled the country patch that was my grandparents’ home on Long Island, New York. He showed up whenever he wanted, proudly displaying the scars from his battles in El Campo, where he disappeared. The Jurado kids always celebrated his arrival as if he were a rock star.

As Goldie passed through, he left behind his legacy in the form of batches of new kittens. They would hide beneath the house. Abuela Catalina, with her big heart and welcoming smile, always took good care of the kittens living under the house. Abuela’s good heart also extended to her grandchildren, who felt misplaced because of their parents’ separation. El Campo was a safe place to return to and heal from life’s battles. 

Jimmy, the oldest, was a high school senior, a complete mad scientist with a round, dimpled face, spiky jet-black hair, and almond-shaped eyes that made him look oriental. Richard, 13, the athlete, was tall and muscular and 4 years younger than Jimmy, a freshman who played football and gymnastics. He never said much but always seemed to get into trouble and fights at school. Elizabeth, a year younger than Richard, was the first girl and had always been treated like a princess in the family during their better days. She was the creative and emotional one. Shirley, the youngest by 6 years, was still a baby and under her mother’s care. James and Richard lived with their grandparents, and Elizabeth lived with her elderly great aunts in the city and visited often. 

One sad day, all three Jurado siblings were together, hanging out at the picnic table in the backyard. Goldie’s latest batch of newborn kittens was in a box without their mother. Grandpa James Senior had built a screened-in enclosure around the picnic table, and it was a safe, dry place to keep the kittens. Jimmy, the clunky teenager he was, accidentally stepped into the box and crushed one of the kittens’ heads. Richard and Elizabeth were distraught. This was their first encounter with death—a lesson they did not like. Emotions ran high as they took turns holding the kitten, powerless to help. Richard exploded at Jimmy, tears streaming down his face. His normally composed demeanor was gone. Red-faced, he yelled a string of profanities at his older brother. All Elizabeth could do was sob uncontrollably and shake. The sounds of anger and fighting were unbearably painful and raw to her.

When the initial shock and horror finally passed, they gathered to prepare for the very formal burial in Abuela’s flower garden. The only prayer they knew was the “Our Father.” They held hands and prayed over the shallow grave. The sun was setting over El Campo, spilling reds and oranges across the horizon. 

Ultimately, like Goldie, the Jurado siblings proudly wore their battle scars, but on the inside.