Today is March the 19th. No Big Deal! You will say… To you, perhaps not. To me is a flow of memories of a childhood tradition at my grandparents’ home, where I was raised. Today’s day is dedicated to San José (Saint Joseph, for my American friends) the saint in whose honor my grandfather José was named. Every March 19th, we set out for a mini pilgrimage to the Chapel of San José. A small, dedicated chapel, located not too far from where we lived. It was a special trip, since there would be just my grandfather and I in the car. We would have time to talk and for me to ask all those silly questions children will ask of their “hero” adult.
-“Abuelo”, -“how far are we from the Ermita?”. Now, please understand we went there every year on the 19th of March, and every year the distance remained the same. Never changed. Yet, he would always answer patiently the same way: -“Oh, far enough to give us some good time together and no so far as to be boring”. Still to this day I truly don’t know haw far this is in real terms, except I do remember it took about one hour to get there; we would arrive at the chapel usually around 11am.
My grandfather was a Free Mason; in fact, he had attained the highest ranking in that organization, that of the 33rd grade. So, what was he doing at this chapel, paying a visit to what was basically a catholic icon? Religion in Cuba was a free issue and most primary religions were represented, with the Catholic Church having the largest presence. In being a believer in all things spiritual, my grandfather went beyond the usual ties that people tend to attach to their respective religions or beliefs (I think I feel a future blog entry coming on…) and he was very respectful and supportive of anything that fueled the spiritual growth in a person. Titles and labels were of very little interest to him.
Anyway, Saint Joe was his patron saint and as such, he felt strongly that this visit was a mandate in his life. To him, this was something which had to be done on this date; to me, it was a participation in an issue that was important for my grandfather. It was also an opportunity to be with him alone and to enjoy the many stories he always passed on to me while on the road and, after the visit, it was the stop at a small countryside eatery on the way back and to have a delicious country lunch of rice, yucca or sweet fried plantains, and pork. I know… we weren’t much into dieting in those days… These visits to the chapel, along with many other side trips over the years, allowed me to get to know my grandfather well, and to also enjoy the privilege of getting to know my country, since we traveled the island pretty much in its entirety.
These trips took on an added urgency during my last two years in Cuba. I think he already knew what would be happening with regards to our family’s break up and he wanted not only to spend that time with me, but also to imprint that beautiful countryside in my mind’s eye. Never to forget it, and I haven’t.
My brother and I have touched on the subject of my grandfather at times. We have also touched on the pluses and minuses of what a life is when a person is physically wrenched from his or her known universe: family, home, friends, culture, hopes, etc. Has it been worthwhile? Has it not? Would it have been better to have stayed in Cuba and have lived through the shortcomings and sufferings caused by the regime, but having maintained the family circle around one?
My answers to all these are too inconclusive; there is no real parallel experience on which I could base them. I know what my life was during the first 15 years of my life as a growing child/young adult in Cuba –in a socioeconomic environment that then ceased to exist- and what my life has been in this country, to which I owe much. The only true knowledge received regarding the realities of living in Cuba over the last 4 decades, has come from friends and, especially, from my brother and his family, who came out only 10 and 4 years ago respectively. He was brought up by the same family in which I grew up yet, the cultural differences in our upbringing are deep. I can only assimilate these differences from the point of view that my later life in this country’s environment will allow me. Yes, my life has been varied, having traveled and worked in over 20 countries and having lived in three different cultures and countries. These travels and life experiences may give me a wider point of view and a much higher tolerance level to what is different, but one can only truly express an educated opinion over that which one has experienced directly.
There is one area, though, where I do have a definitive opinion: my life would have been much richer and fuller if I had had the company and guidance of my grandfather a few more years. He died in 1976, some 14 years after my leaving the country. My brother Pepe did accompany him till the end, and was his companion during those last years. For many reasons, including age, physical problems, governmental controls and such, they were not able to really travel around as much as I did during my growing years, when there were no such restrictions. But to have had the company, the love and the wisdom of that man during those extra years, would have been worth more than I could ever pay. I have told my brother that I envied him and the fact he was able to have him all those latter years. I am also glad they were together, for then my grandfather did have one of his beloved grandchildren as a companion and, in all honesty, none could have been better that Pepe.
Well, that is March 19th… Happy San José Day, abuelo.
Wherever you are, I always think of you.
Be well…Back Soon.
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