Friday, January 25, 2013

Halting Steps…


It could be said the above heading refers to the fact my hip would not allow me to take regular steps but no… it is not those physical steps I allude to…

The tale of a road to recovery has been taken up... I am not sure if it is to the interest of any, just that I felt it had to be told and, perhaps, even reviewed by yours truly for the first time... as a whole, not in convenient little pieces which often leave the darker spots out.... 

so it continues...

During the first few weeks of my stay with my brother and family, most of the time was taken up by getting to know the different members of the group and the country they represented. My country. The Cuba I remember is a country long gone. It had a defined culture, handed down –as it is most everywhere- through family, school and neighborhood lines. We were, for the most part, recipients of a long and simmering mix of Spain’s inadequacies and joy of life and African tribal mythology, mixed with a heavy dose of Catholic hard line teachings. Yet, we managed to meld and to move forward, creating an island nation which managed to find a recognizable spot among the world’s nations.

We could then find the latest international fashions in most any store as well as the foods needed and wanted to give families their daily requirements; we had access to regular entertainment and to a very high and uncensored level of education.

This is not a commercial… after all… the product described is long gone and will –most likely- not be available again. This is more of a background set to try and explain the very definitive and divergent lines of thought, expectations and even culture I have found to exist within Cubans then and Cubans now; even within my own family, from one generation to the next; from my having grown in a relatively free atmosphere to their growing under very controlling state defined parameters.

My brother’s generation perhaps went through the harshest of times. He is 13 years younger than I and he lived his young adulthood at the time of the Soviet collapse, which resulted in finding almost nothing to eat; any "extras" (if you can call basic food an extra) needed could only be obtained through black market barter and constant searching. At great personal risk.

This builds a very different mind set than the one I built in my earlier, definitely quieter years, followed by my life here in the States. Day to day survival was the absolute priority for my brother and his family. Bar none. Yet, despite all this, there is one area where he and his wife are no different than the folks I remember from my childhood… family union. There is a strong bond within my brother’s family… I have to say a far stronger one than I have been able to muster within my own… and I am not admitting this proudly.

The more I came to know them, the more I loved them. Despite his outside bravado, often harsh behavior and unabashed opportunism, my brother is a good and gentle human being who loves his family no end… And his, as well as his family’s love directed at me, were an incredibly strong force that helped me begin to find my way back into my reality world, the world from which I had somehow managed to hide for some time.

Those were uneasy, halting steps. Little by little, one by one, these steps began to renew, within me, that old “don’t-give-up” way of life that had almost gone away, buried under a mountain of issues, frustrations and general emotional malaise.

My wife and I began the treacherous process of approaching each other by having long distance phone conversations; this, after a prolonged hiatus. There were no fingers pointed, no “your vs. my fault” accusations; we were both tired and trying each, within our individual selves, to find a way back from a long and dark dead end. Eventually, we agreed on our terms and she decided to join me in North Carolina… However, she was coming not because of an overwhelming need or desire to be with me, but from a need to get away from her own issues… I understood and accepted this.

We clung to each other and, together, began to walk down a long and difficult path…   

Be Well … Be Back!!!

Final Notes:
  • Pray for those who are fighting an illness which may take them away from their loved ones… Every request is heard, and counts!!
  • Follow us on Twitter … @RJAsPandora
  • Any comments please send to otherboxp@yahoo.com
  • “La Otra Caja de Pandora”… The Spanish language Blog… “otracaja.blogspot.com”Bienvenidos!!!

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