Summa Ius Summa Iniuria

Taking notes has been one of my favorite hobbies as a writer. My grandmother and I used to sit down in the living room in her house and while she was telling me about her family experiences, I was jotting down the stories, the names, and the places; interrupting to ask for clarification and, sometimes, to ask for the proper spelling of a word.

Still today, I call her by phone to precise the details of those stories she has been telling us throughout the years (and for which, regretfully, I don't have any written notes now). She has never been an avid reader except for reading nearly the whole newspaper and she prefers listening to the radio, watching TV, and conversing with people. She has always been a wonderful storyteller and I have analyzed how it is she does it to be so captivating.

My maternal great grandparents had eight children and my grandma was the oldest one. One of them, a little girl, died at the age of four in a small swimming pool where she drowned and it was a tragedy in the family difficult to overcome. My grandma always says that time heals most pains and when I think about my grandma's father, two words come to my mind: Peace and wisdom, and it is interesting that I don't recall my grandma mentioning those precise two words.

My great grandfather used to tell a lot of aphorisms and adages whenever the occasion required it and those were shared among our family through my grandmother. My grandma’s youngest brother did not do well at school, he disliked it very much, he constantly slacked work, stayed at home, missed class, and it seemed to be a lost cause. However, tired of trying different approaches, my great grandmother decided to find a job for him a job for which she contacted one of her friends who was the owner of a pharmacy. Shortly after my grand uncle was running errands and delivering prescriptions in a bike around the neighborhood.
Less than six months in the job when he had a fatal accident: A drunk taxi driver hit him and his head bumped against the pavement. The police arrived immediately asking my great grandfather to press charges but my grandfather said he was not going to press any.

Days later, when my grand uncle was in the hospital in a very delicate condition, the police called again to inquire about my grand uncle's health. When the police were notified my grand uncle had died, they called my grandfather again to see if he had changed his mind and wanted to press charges. And this is what he said: “We are deeply sorry for the loss of our son. Nothing will bring him back. Sending this man to jail will also take away the son of another mother. We won’t press any charges”.