Blood Is Thicker Poem by Catherine Elaine

Home is where the heart
runs and hides,
ducking the inevitable clashes and blows.
They are family, after all.
They know best
all the ways to break you.
(Inevitable, really.
It comes with knowing
you best.)

You are the so-called rebel child,
straight-A student, never straight enough.
You eschew their Catholic epiphanies
and run from their right-wing ways.
You despise their intolerant politics
and proudly display your “Save Darfur”
bracelets and essays on lesbians.
You protest this war;
they protest your views.
They wonder aloud how you came to be,
and you can’t help but agree.

But blood is thicker than difference
and the water that rains from your eyes.

And despite it, golden moments arise
out
of the dust of everyday.

Mom cooks and
sets out cloth place mats and
flowers
at every meal.
She kisses both you
and your brother.

And Dad booms
you’re “a good kid”
and asks about
your day.

Your heart brims,
despite how full
it is of sometime despair.
And, in a rare, lilting instant,
you accept
the facts.

They are –unavoidably and irrevocably—
family.

You didn’t choose them,
but you can choose to love them
and hope for redemption
instead of companions,
for the unconditional,
rather than an understanding.

In the end, these moments
are all you got.
So you take them for
what they are,
and save the rest for
yourself— and for what
future families
may bring.