Ties that bind

Nature is an elicit patron who is prone to bestow myriad seeds of character in the hearts of humanity, and bade them brave the weathers. She then sits back to observe the ones that persist. Mankind being the species that delivers its due, unaware of their predispositions seeks to grow. This formulates the concoction that breeds mankind into the formidable species that peppers the world. This constitutes the properties of man attributed to nature, and then there’s nurture. Nurture that allows man to possess a rational fact, the proof that cements his reasoning. Grounds him to exert meaning to his actions, if not over the haze around him.

Thereby we come to face the question, nature or nurture?

This cosmic enigma manifests itself this day in the form of young Margaret

Margaret was faraway, her thoughts in a rapid daze when the hard ‘thud’ of a tripped 5 year old brought her back to reality. The hum of chatter permeated her thoughts. She focused on the people around her and her heartbeat returned back to normal.

She absorbed her surroundings. There was a light breeze wafting through the afternoon sun. She was at a garden decorated with the dainty colors that adorned all venues known to host a marriage. The couple smiled and exchanged soft glances in between photographs. Her tiny cousins ran around her leg, and her mother made idle conversation to the lady on her right. “Is that little Maggie pie over there”, boomed her uncle from a few feet away. “Oh Victor, she is as gorgeous as the day we cradled her in our arms”, her aunt cooed pinching her cheeks. “Aunt Tory, Uncle Victor. It is wonderful to see you again.” Margaret managed to say before she was pulled into a hug and passed on to the next relative. The whole pack was here including cousins and grandmas she did not know she had. Well that was to be expected. When the Mowers’ clan gathered it was an affair that could rival any act that a passable carnival could conjure. Well that made it sound too offbeat. I believe these are civically termed as Family Gatherings, she mused as she waited for the conclusion of the event.

On the ride back she twined her fingers and gazed as the countryside flew by. “It is so good to have you home again Maggie. Everyone were so excited to see you again”, she heard her mother say. “Home as Margaret’s parents referred to was the peaceful little town on the mountain plains where the Mowers’ resided. “Yes Mother” murmured Margaret. “How has life in the city been? Do they work you hard?” queried her Father. “The work has been truly interesting Dad. I couldn’t have wanted for more. Everything is perfect.” she replied, and it almost was. She had wanted to go out into the world, find a life for herself. To depend on no one, earn her place. And she had done all of those, she had found a secure job, a house for herself and the means to set her career on a progressive path.But she couldn’t feel the conclusive satisfied sigh she had been expecting at the end of this milestone. She was proud of it all, but instead of content she just felt an absence. An elusive grasp on that missing piece of the puzzle. It was part of the reason Margaret had felt the need to return to her origins – the ones she had spent her whole life attempting to leave behind. “Would you be staying a while this time?” her Father finally asked. “Of course she is Steve. She just got here!” her mother spared her the response. The truth was Margaret had obtained the required approval to work remotely for the near future. She could stay here for a reasonable period of time without any pressure from work. However, she did not want to reveal this to her parents just yet. She wanted a plausible excuse to leave if she ever felt the need to.

The next morning, she woke up to the call of hens and the chirping of birds. Day had begun in her small town. The merry chatter of bustling people and friendly greetings could be heard. She rose and readied herself. She had her own call of duties to attend to.

As she rummaged in the kitchen drawers for a sizable cup to hold her daily dosage of caffeine, her phone trilled in a shrill tone signaling a call from her office. It was a Monday morning, and a usual occurrence at her residence back in the city but somehow seemed a little out of place in the all-too cheerful neighborhood.

“Margaret Mowers”, she said in way of greeting. “Mags, this is John. We got another big one. The Warehouse team in Spain are backed up. There seems to be a downtime in the software. Some hothead decided to alter the delivery configurations and now they are unable to issue any of the Goods. We already got a call in from the COE to clear up this mess within the hour. The shipments need to reach the hospitals by noon, and there is to be no compromise on our part of the process flow”. Margaret breathed in. Now this was her terrain. “Alright John, I’m coming online”, she affirmed before ending the call. Margaret was part of the Logistical support for KremsCure Pharma, a global pharmaceutical manufacturer with plants all over the world. They had steady days like this, and she would be called in at all hours to ensure there was no holdup. She was in charge of the Warehouse Operations but her actions extended across all directions of Logistics. She booted up her laptop at her wizened table. Bless the era of digitization! There was already an invitation awaiting in her mail to join the war room call. She felt the rush. She may never admit it to John or the rest of her team – but she loved these high pressure schemes. After an hour of wrangling with the software, corresponding with the on-ground team, and stalling the Spanish Inquisition from her German boss, her team had it under control. “Whew, they sure know how to keep us on her toes”, said Aurelia. Everyone but her team had now left the meeting to resume their daily duties. Since dispersing to different corners of the country, they had taken to lounging back in calls once the others had left. It provided a sense of connection. “Mags it was good to have you around. We were afraid you were going to pull a Houdini on us”, drawled Carlton. “And leave you to the wolves. Your puppy dog look would not have saved you then” quipped back Margaret. “Honestly Mags, how are you doing out there? ”, there was tinge of worry in Aurelia’s tone. A random cow from around nearby chose the moment to let out a loud “Moo”. “Well that did suspiciously sound like ‘gooood’. Good to know you got friendly company out there”, laughed Carl. “I’m acclimating guys. It’s peaceful here”, she said as she wondered if she meant that. “That’s the best thing right now Maggie. We do need peace. Heavens! I’d bring Amy out there in a bolt. Lucy and I wanted Amy to grow up in a small town with a sleepy life. I dread to think of her teenage years”, John interrupted. “Amy’s barely crawling, John!”, Margaret cried out. “Well they grow up in the blink of an eye, and soon she would be going to college and moving away.” John bemoaned again. They all chuckled in unison. “Well, I have to go guys. I’ll catch up again soon”, Margaret said as she closed her laptop.

Margaret soon settled into a routine. She had her workspace set up in her room, and family dinners concluded her day. She had ventured to reacquaint herself with the old roads. Her dad extended to her the usage of his car. As she often did, she was apprehensive to accept a luxury with no foresight of intent. However, the rumble of engine beneath her grasp soon drowned her thoughts.

She had realized quite early on that she had an amicable and quite a fond relationship with her folks when they loved each other from afar or upon brief visits dispersed over months.  Although this time her stay had been extended, she had been welcomed with eager warmth. Cautious, she still decided to keep her presence respectfully sparse around the house.

Dinner at the Mowers’ residence was a zealous custom. Conversation gradually cascaded to the happenings in Margaret’s life. Specifically her designs to live the rest of her life.. “So Maggie, your mother and I have been talking.” her Father began. Ah, the classic cliché which never boded well for the person on the receiving end. “

“We wondered if you had any plans towards your future. There are still so many more things left to decide about what you are going to do.” Her father said. Margaret was on guard as she replied, “Of course Dad. I thank you for your concern, but I believe I will cross those bridges as I reach them. And your sage advice will be solicited at that moment if I am indisposed.”

Her mother sighed and her father shook his head. “You are acting like a child. I believe you have grown to the point of identifying appropriate paths in front of you”, he said.

Of course she had gone to great pains to ensure that she earned the right to dictate the terms of her life. She earned them by investing herself to her growth.

“We worry about you. We only want what is best for you. You know that honey”, her mother attempted to pacify. “Your uncle told us about this handsome boy. He earns well and is in a good position at a law firm.” “Mother! I am not throwing away my career to chase after a boy!” Margaret exclaimed. “Considering we’re bringing him to you, it couldn’t quite be considered a chase now.” her Father intervened. “Besides, I raised you to be your own woman. You will certainly need to be independent. ” “We think you should resume your thoughts for the masters’ degree you had in mind” her father went on. “It would seem to be the right time.” 

Margaret couldn’t believe her ears. The doubting and the controlling? Would this ever stop? The sting of betrayal ran through her veins. There was no rationale behind her thought, but when it came to her family there had never been much to start with.

“My life has been crafted of my own design. I do not wish to alter it now father”, she breathed as she rose and did her best to not storm out the door.

Something about this place still made her feel like a child. She had done her best to run far from the pitiful little girl who was scared and alone, who always looked for her dad and mom’s elusive approval, constantly hoping to be better, to be more. She still wanted to be more. Maybe that’s why she had returned. To put the old ghosts to rest.

She had become the woman she had always wanted to have watching over her, but she couldn’t yet stop running. Any moment she tried it felt sacrilegious. However, if she did need to keep running she no longer felt the desire to run away. Her need had evolved for something to run towards and this is where she came up empty. She had hoped by making the trip here, her righteous younger self could guide her to what she had wanted, because Heavens help her she no longer knew what that was herself.

The next morning she was loathe to leave her bed. She did not know what awaited her down the hall. Perhaps she would use work as an excuse to leave early. She had hardly planned to prolong her stay, and her exit strategy was already in place. She pondered the thought as she went out on the patio to stretch her legs. Her father was planting a plant with violet flowers in the garden. Seeing her father gardening was not strange. He said it calmed his thoughts. What she did find strange was his choice of flowers.

He gave her a tentative smile as she came close, “Hey Honey, did you sleep well?”. She glanced at the flowers and nodded, “I did Dad. Flowers are not your signature subjects. I thought you preferred plants with more herbal or culinary usage.” she said. Her father took a breath, “I did, I still do. Do you know when I first started gardening?” he asked patting the mound of dirt around the plant. He did not wait for a response and continued, “It was around the time you were ten. You had this awful cough, and it refused to go away. It started to get your temperature, and you ended up frequently with a fever. Each time you had to take some medicine your eyes used to water and you would scrunch up your tiny face.” Margaret hardly remembered what he spoke of. “Well one day”, he went on “I saw this article in the newspaper about a ‘Tulsi’ plant. It was considered sacred in India, and it had all the medicinal properties to ward away viruses.” She brightened. She remembered this plant. Her Father had taken her to many herbalists in search of this plant. “I remember. You finally got it from the lady who lives near the fields.” She finished. He chuckled, “I did, and I made you drink tea with those leaves all year”, he remembered fondly and she smiled. “Maggie, we weren’t always fair to your knack for decisions. You are a grown woman. I should let you live your life. I hope you decide to stay a little longer. I hope we didn’t drive you away again after last night’s conversation”. Margaret was speechless. Her father had conceded and taken a step back. Had she woken up in the same planet she had fallen asleep on? “These are Wisterias. I heard they symbolize the act of Welcoming. I want you to know you are welcome home always.” Margaret smiled. Well, she did not believe her father had backed down from trying to direct her life but she believed she had made her point. In the process she had glimpsed a bit of the childhood she would have wanted. It was a start.

Margaret stood at the edges of the shore. Twilight set upon the beach. Dusk engulfed it in a warm haze tinged with fading scarlet. The waves lapped at her feet and a soft smile lit her face. She was a woman and a child. Here she wasn’t the very special Margaret Mowers, or even Mags. She was simply Maggie – the kid who needed to look out for her mom and dad. The kid who looked out for her family, and refused to turn a blind eye to them even when it hurt her.

She had understood in one simple word what she had wanted – Peace. In the ways she was and with the people that mattered, but most importantly also with herself. Her memories ran deep, and she had been at war with her demons for a long time. She had conquered the war but her demons taunted to still be there. Would peace ever exist when war defined her very existence? Her answers were still out there, but her family was here. She would one day find her family of choice, one not preordained by birth and one she could seek to create for herself. But at this moment, she had this one corner ensconced in the walls inhabited by the two people who had unfurled her existence to this world.

Nurture deserves its due, but in this one simple aspect Nature asserts its domain. Family is a lengthy and strong cord. We may not always want it or even need it, but it is almost impossible to severe it. Hence, we find new ways to live with it, possibly make it better. For if there was one thing that nature designed in her machinations of this familial cord, it is that it is a tie that binds.