My maternal family left Cuba within months of Fidel taking over. They left by airplane thinking they’d be back by Christmas. They took only their bodies. One of my aunts came naked on the plane. Everything had to be left behind. The house in Miramar, the beach house in Varadero, the furniture, the clothes… everything. My youngest uncle had to stay behind as an infant because he did not have ‘the right papers.’ Papi (my late-maternal grandfather) went back for him and reunited his boy (my Godfather) with the family. America opened its arms to my maternal family back in the early 1960s. They briefly settled in Amityville, New York before relocating in Puerto Rico. While on the mainland they were given clothes, schooling and were able to move into a home at the onset of winter. Papi, a lawyer back in Cuba, worked long hours on Madison Avenue. It was rough and tough, yet better than the life that would be with Fidel in power. On one side my family are refugees. On the...
For The Good Of The American Family & Individual: Youth, Adults, & Senior Citizens