THE END OF A SINGULAR YEAR.

 

This post is actually taken from my company’s FB page, where a paid boost was denied. I read it again and again and couldn’t really find what the “infraction” was, so I let it go without changes, or boost. When editing becomes blatant censorship based on one individual’s interpretation of understandings, freedom of speech goes out the door.

These are the rules supposedly broken by the piece, which is really a year end note and a wish for a better new year…

“Policy

Ads must not contain content that asserts or implies personal attributes. This includes direct or indirect assertions or implications about a person’s race, ethnic origin, religion, beliefs, age, sexual orientation or practices, gender identity, disability, medical condition (including physical or mental health), financial status, voting status, membership in a trade union, criminal record, or name.”

And here is the post.

THE END OF A SINGULAR YEAR.

We are but two days away from turning the page on the year 2020. For many, this has been a difficult year, and with plenty of reasons, to say the least.

But, when facing difficulties, we have to stand tall and find the opportunities. Because they are there. I know many who have done their best, changing lifestyle and work routines. Others have found work where there was none before. Yet, far too many are still facing difficulties that have not been overcome ... yet. 

When facing a new year, we all make promises to ourselves and to the world. Promises which often are not kept or are kept half way. Usually because they are promises of "doing better", "losing/gaining weight", "improving life" etc.

These are far too loose, have no measurable results.

So …

How much weight do you want to lose?

How are you going to do it?

When will you start??

How are you going to "do better"?

What do you mean by that?

How will you accomplish it?

When?

Like with all else in life, it is better to have two well thought out "promises" which then become "commitments" and which you can supervise, measure and accomplish, than many which are just "feel good" promises.

Does this sound harsh?  Perhaps it is. But it is real.

Define what and where you want to be, then make yourself the promise that you will do what needs to be done in order to get there. Do it in writing, with details, then share it with the person(s) who will be there with you, so they can give you strength and help you get there.

You now have a commitment. To yourself and to those whom you love. Your chances of actually doing what you promise to do, have been multiplied tenfold.

You can do it!! There is nothing that says that a difficult year cannot be overcome and be followed by a great year, on all levels.

Make 2021 the BEST year ever for you and your loved ones.

We will be here to help you along, as much as we can.

But, remember, we can only push, YOU have to do it!!!

 

HAPPY AND BLESSED NEW YEAR TO YOU AND YOURS!! 

MAY IT BE THE BEST YEAR EVER!!!

Changing Diapers. Figuratively speaking.

One of the great advantages of having survived the diagnosis and subsequent treatment (with all the short term/long term ramifications involved) of a cancer, along with a couple or three major surgeries to replace bone parts which had been worn out from use and abuse over the years, is that I have learned to look at the world around me with a somewhat more encompassing, yet skeptical eye. Sometimes approving, sometimes unbelieving, sometimes from a comical relief viewpoint. But always taking all details in, even when it doesn’t seem to be so. 

I find it fascinating that today, those objects that were “Oh-so-important” some years ago, are now just things to be appreciated; enjoyed if available and -if not- enjoyed from afar. Without jealousy, regrets or envy. I don’t know if this is a sign of maturity or conformity. Some folks do use this last term in the form of an attack, as in: “you are a CONFORMIST!!” whenever a person is willing to enjoy what he or she has at any particular time, without going crazy about doing more in order to get what he/she doesn’t really think he or she needs or wants.

If being a conformist means to be able to enjoy the here and now, without undue suffering for what is not available right at this moment, then so be it … I declare myself such an animal. 

Now that we have settled that issue, let’s go on to another word also found in that paragraph and which causes so much angst and pain to so many who fall under its spell: Regret(s).

What is Regret? These are some of the words that can be found in a Thesaurus under “regret”:  Remorse, guilt, shame, grief, distress, lament, be unhappy, be sorry.

As you can tell, there isn’t a single one of these words that in any way imaginable could be interpreted as a good thing to go through, feel, or even consider enjoying or enjoyable. So, in my newly appreciated state of enlightenment, this is a word I have erased from my vocabulary. Truly erased.

Does this mean I have never made a wrong decision? Far from it. My life is populated by bad decisions; some minor, some not so minor. Do I say there are absolutely no regrets when things have gone wrong? Not entirely. There have been regrets as far as my decisions may have negatively affected and/or hurt others. For them, yes, there are regrets. For myself? Not so. After reviewing my memory bank (not to be confused with the word “memoirs” which imply an exchange of money for your ability to read and partake of them), I came to understand these were decisions made based on circumstances of the moment, with available knowledge at the time and reasonable anticipation of probable results. 

Any negative impact on others was an unfortunate by-product of a failed course of action, and most definitely not an intended result.

So, why no regrets?  When one is feeling constant regrets over a course of action taken, one is doomed to live and re-live that course of action in his/her mind. It becomes a never-ending loop in time, where we can easily become trapped. I have informally spoken with some “connoisseurs” on this issue, and their collective thinking tends to agree on the probability of getting stuck in the past with the phrase “if I had not done this …” in any of its many variants being repeated over and again.

I have known some folks so enshrined in this behavior, that they lose concept of their present and their future. This is not a good way to live. If the results of any given action were negative, the consequences will be present for a length of time which, on occasion, could be a long one. We can try to repair the damage whenever possible or make amends if needed, but whatever action took place in the past, is done and gone. And usually, that which was done, cannot be undone.

I have learned as so should you, to pass the pages in the book of life, to finish the chapters, to close those chapters and to begin a new one. Every time. Life is a continuum and so should be our passing through it. It is often a difficult road to traverse and we cannot afford to make it even more difficult, by allowing our minds to become afraid of the present and the future because we are mired in past mistakes.

Accept them, show the desire to fix consequences when this is possible (can’t always do it, accept this as well), learn from what happened, re-focus your point of view and your direction of travel, then go ahead into a new chapter of your life and begin to write it on a pristine, blank piece of virtual paper.

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!!   

·       Any comments please send to rjalcazar@gmail.com

SANS TITLE

The original idea was to just splash a cute, non-descript title on top and then go ahead and start filling paper with a number of ingenious ideas and witty repartee… Although genuinely nice and creative, that went awry very quickly. As you can see, there is no title yet and as for ingenious ideas and witty repartee… not much of that either.

Writing is much like any other exercise. When you do it regularly, it becomes “easy”. When the wheels of creativity (mine seem to be thumping square wheels at the moment) stop rolling … it is hell to pay just to get then going again.

But I try. Because it is something that allows me to think beyond my current status, place or even hiding hole, if you prefer. It is letting the imagination take over and run crazy with whatever it begins to create. Sometimes that vision is a little frightening; sometimes it just hovers just above reality with some basic changes. Sometimes it just is … well … a waste of time.

Most of the entries on this long-ignored blog have been of memories. Memories of a childhood which day by day continues to fade into a faraway background; they only continue to exist because they are anchored by those real-life characters which populated that childhood and who -in one way or another- also populate many of the pages in these entries. All who were then adults, are gone. Several who just shared those growing times, still live. A few, other than those members of my immediate family (brothers, sister, cousins who live in Cuba, P. Rico, Colombia and here), still form part of my current life. We exchange notes and texts, sometimes share memories, and sometimes realize that all we have left to transfer to those who come behind, reared in this new and very different culture are, precisely, those memories.

To me, these memories are life itself. My life. To others, these can be cute stories; sometimes funny, sometimes a bit poignant. All I can say is they are very real. At times some of the participants, in the latter-day stories, have been somewhat camouflaged to protect the guilty. But these stories are bits of a life which is by now making its way into the middle of its seventh decade, while creating a sense of urgency about getting as much as I can on paper, before it begins to fade away. Irretrievably so.

No, I am not a harbinger of gloom and doom. It is just the reality of life. The years go by and our minds begin to file many of these memories under the “long past and gone” leather bound volumes where they gather dust, virtual spiderwebs and a patina of grayish forgetfulness.

Then, there are the new entries … this morning, a long-time friend sent me a note to let me know that a common friend and brother in arms had bid his last adieu last night. No. it wasn’t someone whom I saw every day or even talked with every day. We communicated throughout the year and would visit, usually for lunch, whenever I could make it to Miami. But, along with my other friend Hector, we had known each other since High School days when we all  -fresh from Cuba- ended up in Richland, WA. And there have been many, many other days that have gone by since those we use as a reference point. 56 years to be exact. So now Manny, truly a good man, will join many other gone souls in that growing archive that we so jealously guard, somewhere between the forehead and the back of that same head.

There, he now becomes a cherished memory, and the things we did in those long-gone days, which had been somewhat forgotten, come back as if they happened just yesterday.

It is time to say goodbye. Just for the moment. My growing work has really kept me from returning to these pages as often as I would like, but the effort is made and it is real. I will come and visit as often as I can; I hope you do the same.

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!!   

·       Any comments please send to rjalcazar@gmail.com

The Constancy of Inconstancy

 This is purely an exercise in thinking (a concept which, apparently, has fallen into hard times lately) and trying to project those thoughts into a future world before they disappear back into the mists from which they originally rose. I will state, unequivocally, that I am not a scientist nor a student of the human mind. Just an old guy who has seen a lot of fools come and go, before -or while- becoming one myself. 

Someday in the future, when history finally redeems itself as history and not as the currently favored overworked patch of repaired and restructured quasi-facts, our grand/great grandchildren will look at this stretch as a most revealing time for our country.

- “Welcome to the first session of 2040 class … we are going to review the impact te press had in their handling of information during the infamous 2020 pandemic, as it related to an election year” says Ms. Hightone, the US history teacher.

- “Mr. Bleak” continues the class leader … “Please give us your comments on the press, as it reported on the pandemic and its causes”

-“Well, Ma’am (yes, respect has been reintroduced into the classrooms by that time … we can hope, can’t we?) it seems that there were several reports which contradicted previous reports” said young Mr. Bleak “Almost like a constant change of direction”

- “What do you mean by that”, asked Ms. Hightone.

- “At the beginning, as early as December of 2019, there were reports of a virus which had escaped from a city in China called Wuhan” “Then, a bat virus twist was added … but”,  continued the student, “while a few press members were writing about an engineered virus, most members of the established press were trying to put distance between responsibility and the Chinese … despite the fact they had originally identified them as the source and culprit”…

- “Frankly” continued young Mr. Bleak, “I am not sure if I understand the flip flop reporting, unless it was re-directed for a reason”.

- “Very interesting, we will come back to that later” added Mrs. Highstone.

A young and usually quiet lady, Ms. Rodriguez, raised her hand.

- “Yes, Ms. Rodriguez” said Mrs. H.

- “In reviewing the releases of most of the primary news media of the time, it looks like there was a lot of political direction and manipulation” said Ms. Rodriguez quietly.

- “Please explain” said Mrs. H.

-“Taking into consideration it was an election year, it seems that a very large number of press releases that year were meant to undermine the credibility of the presiding government” continued Ms. Rodriguez. - “what sets apart that year from other previous elections is that in all others, releases would balance out in favor of both the incumbent and the challenger; however, in 2020 there seemed to be a coordinated effort to bring down the incumbent”

- “Continue” said Mrs. H

-“I went back all the way back to late 19^th century and early 20^th century, during the period in which the ‘Yellow Press’ became known as a form of reporting that made up news and sources or exaggerated half-truths  in the pursuit of an agenda” – “As a student of journalism” she added “it was truly an eye opener how the press then tried to manipulate people in general and some groups in particular, after these became a target” -  ”Analyzing these two periods, what jumps up at me is the similarity in the mismanagement of stories, sources and outright biased opinion of those who were supposed to be reporting news, not making them”

“so …” continued Mrs. H, “what is your take?”

- “My first reaction is that of true amazement as to how several pieces of information were manipulated to the detriment of the administration” “in most cases” she continued “these were proven to be wrong or outright false, but the press continued to push them as ‘facts’” … “After thinking about this, I can only conclude the press was totally willing to forget professional journalism for the sake of -what seemed to be- instigation of fear and hatred”.

- “Well, class” said Ms. H “Seems that we may be running out of time; however, this is a topic which will take several sessions to cover” …

- “What appears to be, according to several sources who have studied and written about this phenomenon” added Ms. H as a parting note to the class, “is that a very large amount of money and time were spent in trying to manipulate public opinion against the incumbent in a most important election year”

- “We will also look at social media; its growth in use and its role in balancing out, to a point, what the general press published as news”.

With that, Mrs. H dismissed the class while remaining behind in a very pensive mood … These children were young and starting; she was old enough to have lived this period and to have survived it.

Under a pseudonym and allowing her directed emotions to dictate her actions, she had been a very vocal part of that press. After, understanding the potential damage that could have been inflicted on the country, she dedicated her time and experience to teaching future generations about the importance of truth, professionalism and fairness in the handling of the responsibilities that go with that most important career of journalism.

Perhaps, she felt, she could in this way atone a bit for past actions.

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!!   

·       Any comments please send to rjalcazar@gmail.com

PACO Y PEDRO … THE “BODEGA” KINGS

Almost every other corner in my hometown -at least the older part of town where I lived- had a bodega. This is our term for the old-time neighborhood corner store. Where you went to buy the stuff you needed to create lunch or dinner, buy a quick Coca-Cola in the middle of a hot summer day, or where the guys went to have a beer and shoot the breeze at the end of a workday. Just prior to getting home, which was just a few short steps away. After all, it was the “bodega de la esquina” (the corner store).

These weren’t fancy places. Imagine a wide-open front main entrance … and around the very corner, another wide entrance. After all, there had to be access from both sides of the corner, not just one. Basic marketing in motion. It also helped with the breeze on a hot afternoon. No air conditioning here…

As you entered, there were barrels of the dry stuff along a very long, wooden counter, sitting on a very old cement floor. What was the dry stuff? Well, since you asked … rice, beans of different colors, corn, potatoes, green plantains, yuca roots… Behind the counter, along the walls and accessible only to one of the two aforementioned denizens, were colorful baskets full of tropical fruits and some green stuff we seldom used (lettuce and those things) … yes, I know. Our diet then would be horrible by today’s standards. But wow … was it full of flavor and home!!

The rest of the walls were taken up by assorted “stuff” (never accessed… probably to fill space) and prominent single display lines of different alcoholic beverages. Nothing too fancy… no orange or lime vodkas, no bitters, no … well, nothing out of the ordinary. And what was the ordinary? Rum, in all its variants, beer bottles lined up and waiting their turn to go into the coolers and …  yes, a couple of plain vodka, whisky and gin bottles gathering dust (never knew when a liquor savant wannabe could show up) along with plenty of local aguardiente. This last, along with the rum, were the most consumed items. The rum, straight up or in a “Cuba libre” (coke, lemon slice and ice). The aguardiente … always straight up. By the way … aguardiente means “burning water” and that is exactly what it was. In two versions: 60% alcohol (mild) and 80% alcohol (strong … for the “real” men).

But what about the two guys who ran this show? … and did so literally, from 7am to 8pm every day of the week, including Sundays until 5pm. They came from Spain as young (very, as was the norm then) men to find their way in the “Islands”. How they ended up in Cienfuegos, I really don’t know. Probably relatives; the same reason my grandfather ended up in this city, when it was his turn to get off the boat in Havana.

Working together, they lived in the back of the store, as was common with many of the migrants who came and managed to open a little business somewhere. They grew up in this store, at least from being young entrepreneurs to being older (to my young eyes, anyway. Although they were probably in their late 30’s/early 40’s around the time of these memories) business partners. Paco was shorter and wiry, always with an aura of impatient energy. Pedro was the bigger and probably younger of the two. A bit heavy and always with a smile. Maybe because of this I found it easier to go to him.

They were the quintessential example of the average early 20^th century Spanish immigrant to Cuba. Young (sometimes very young), of humble origins and willing to work at anything until they could open their own little something, whatever it might be, somewhere. Many of these little stores grew and spawned most of the bigger commercial enterprises that helped Cuban towns and cities expand and prosper.

Pedro and Paco’s store, while remaining the corner bodega, also grew over the years. Serving their faithful clientele, always helping the neighborhood and always willing to go the extra mile.

The best, as far as I was concerned?

Whatever I would get (within reason) I could always shout …

-“Pedro … put it on the tab!!” for, as with most corner bodegas, the long standing clients had a monthly tab to which the younger denizens of the family had access… you know … the cokes, candies, cookies and ice cream that made the summer days “funner” and more memorable.

With the coming of the new government and political system, that store and all private businesses were eventually either taken over by the government or closed. I assume this was also the case with “Siglo XX” (The name of the store) and I don’t know the eventual fate of Pedro and Paco. I hope their latter years were as kind to them as they were to us in their earlier years.

Pedro y Paco… The bodega kings … at least on the corner of San Luis and Boullon Sts.

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!!   

·       Any comments please send to rjalcazar@gmail.com

SAYING GOOD-BYE.

This concept, for a very particular reason, has been in my mind for a while now. How do you emotionally say goodbye to someone whom you have not seen but once in 56 years?

We human beings, suffer from a distancing malady (no, not the famous virus induced “social distancing” so in vogue now) which will --probably as an exercise in self-defense and survival— slowly erode some of the emotional ties and memories which we formed over the early years of our life, after we are suddenly and totally distanced from these. This erosion of older memories opens the way for us to manage and do our best to live through the encroaching threats of daily life and helps handle moments of potential trauma.

Yes, we are human. Trite excuse but true, nonetheless. With all the failures, successes, foibles and -why not say it?-  the downright stupid behavior at which we excel more often than we’d like to acknowledge. And this last inherent malady takes several forms, none very flattering when we do eventually look at it in retrospect. The sad truth is that this behavior usually comes while in the grip of those unpleasant, blinding and traitorous companions called anger, resentment and insecurity.

I digress … as usual

58 years ago, almost to this date (May/’62) I left the island where my whole kaleidoscope of life had been colored, structured and lived. I never returned. For a good number of years, I was not allowed to do so by the government of my own birth country, for I had “left in disgrace”. Then, when this government’s false dignity encountered real-life issues in the form of desperate economic needs, dignity lost out and the doors were opened -albeit with in-situ restrictions- to all those who wanted to come back and re-visit their long lost island home.

And yes … don’t forget to bring your Visa /Mastercard.  

By this time, the concept of going back to visit had become more and more nebulous. As the years passed and my own personal life underwent several -sometimes drastic- changes along the way, the urge or need faded more and more; eventually, it became a slight possibility and no longer a probability.

Until in the inevitable end, those who had mattered most, the ones who were present and guiding in that early aspect of life, were gone. If one is a believer and a person of faith, one can say gone from this physical realm into another one, where earthly problems and concerns are no more.

And in the final moments of that inevitable end, there was only one person left from that early core. But as a result of life’s challenges, rebukes and unforgiving blows, that mind was no longer there. A brilliant -albeit somewhat cold- mind that had to deal with those slights of life for a little over nine decades, always managing to -at least- end each day with what might be called a manageable draw. That constant pressing fight for survival, however, took a terrible toll over time. The last years of life saw that mind become lost in a veiled fog, only allowing for a far away look to a distant past, when living itself was easier, full of promises and sunlight.

Then, like it happens when a beautiful candle has burned down to a small, shapeless bit of wax, the light finally goes out. It is no more.

That flame went out about four years ago. In the beginning, the at-odds feelings were confusing. So many years, so many empty spaces, so many misguided and conflicting feelings. But, today, in the midst of issues which affect us all, I realize the light of this candle was extremely bright and, even from a distance, the warmth it radiated was felt -albeit unknowingly.

Now I can say that I admired you and loved you, even if it was in ways that were not so conventional. You were a pillar of strength, always fighting for those for whom you felt responsible, often against almost insurmountable odds. You made unselfish decisions which took the kind of courage that few would even begin to visualize; a courage and love I did not even recognize or understood then. Only much later in life did I begin to do so and I’m not sure I would be able to show that same wisdom and courage if needed to.

So, I will now say out loud … Good bye and Rest in Peace Mom. I know your spirit is enjoying that peaceful blessings you very seldom knew in your earthly life.

Know that your sacrifices were not all in vain … Until we meet again.

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!!   

·       Any comments please send to rjalcazar@gmail.com

Quarantine

I am now, like most people around me, going into a forced second week of quarantine. And, like them, this gives me ample time to sit, think, project into the future, create a new life experience … or not.

We have already painted a few walls (not too well, I’m afraid…), done the grass a couple of times, tended the garden, downloaded half of the universe’s music, re-arranged a lot of files in the computer, changed some paintings around, “discovered” several shows on Netflix, Hulu, and YouTube, read some books for the second or third time, managed not to argue (too much) with my other half, and are close to running out of things to do… and there are still one or two weeks to go.

On a more serious thinking process, what is totally a human issue has quickly been converted into a political game of “my junk is bigger than yours”. With total disregard, by some parts, as to the damage this will do to those who are directly affected by this situation. Which is practically 80% of the population. This man-made plague will come to pass (as all others have) and then, these people should be called to account for their frank abuse of position and power at a time when this is totally uncalled for.

There is an amount of fear being induced in the public by the press and by several public figures. This fear has been taken to extremes (my thoughts, perhaps not yours…) never seen before in this country, and people have responded accordingly. Businesses closed, economy in shambles (an economy that had been moving forward much too well for some factions’ liking) and, from the best unemployment records in the modern history of our country, we went to millions of people out of work. Too much orchestration, too many created interests involved in this process, which may indicate a defined and structured goal in mind. And, I do believe, this goal has nothing to do with the well-being of our country or its citizens. It is a political goal. A political game, where the end appears to justify all means.

Do I mean to infer this virus is not dangerous? Not at all. Any virus, whether nature or man made must be taken seriously. And this one has shown it can attack any and all and, in many cases, deal a mortal blow to people who are already suffering from other underlying issues, or are older and unable to muster enough self-defenses to prevail. Do we need to take precautions? Very definitely yes. Do we need to run and hide under the bed until this issue blows over? No. There must be a middle ground where we can continue to exist and work, while taking needed precautions, especially with older or already ill folks.

In perspective, the 2009-10 Swine Flu was responsible for almost 600,000 deaths worldwide (as of today, 44,000 deaths reported worldwide from the COVID19 virus). In the US, over 60 million people were infected and over 12,000 died as a result (these are CDC stats, not mine). According to the very Dr. Faucy (head of task force) in his latest conference, this virus will not reach Swine flu numbers (thank God for that) and yet despite a very late start by the then govt in declaring an emergency, no businesses were closed and people went about life following due precautions. As a side note as well, common influenza (flu) manages to kill from 25,000 to 35,000 people every yearly season in the US alone.

I am not a political or medical pundit. All I have is an accumulation of experience given to me by almost three quarters of a century of living. And of having seen and survived much during this span of time, which in turn has taught me not to believe much at face value. This somewhat jaded experience tells me there are several divergent points of information surrounding this extending panic scenario, which do not quite make total sense.

Time will tell. In a way, I hope I am wrong in what I am thinking by extension. If it turns out I am not, it means that there are a number of powerful people in this country who’d rather see it and the people in it suffer and possibly die, than have it be out of their control.

And that, my friends, is truly a terrifying thought.

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!!   

·       Any comments please send to rjalcazar@gmail.com

ROOTS

·       family, ethnic, or cultural origins, especially as the reasons for one's long-standing emotional attachment to a place or community. "it's always nice to return to my roots"

The last entry in this once well-fed but now too lean blog, was November of last year. I can tell you that several times since then my eyes have stared, in vain, at the blank screen of the computer. And, at times, there usually is not much that can be done except to get back to work.

In all fairness, my time has been quite taken up by ESL classes and a FB page which demands time and effort. But now, time that has appeared thanks to that unwelcome visitor which, hiding behind a corona, (Sp. for crown) is apparently unleashing an unrelenting attack on the human race. This is forcing me to become better acquainted with my immediate neighborhood and neighbors, albeit from a deemed safe distance of 2 meters and at least for the next 15 days.

Because of this, the excuse for not having writing time has been taken away from me, and the safety shield this assumption provided has disappeared; it is leaving me naked -as it were- and without a hiding corner. So … I went back into the files (yes, I do have a set of separate files for the blog) and noticed there was a blank page, with just one word written at the top: “ROOTS”.

That word has several meanings, the best known being its role in plants’ survival and the second best known having to do with one’s own history and origins. Of course, since the first one would give me a relatively easy way out to fill a page or two, that was not the one meaning that created the reason behind that one word’s existence as a lone reminder.

Why roots, and why now? Some time has been spent these past days in the process of putting together and editing a compendium from the blog entries, and I have been reading several of the earlier entries of this blog. Those which started this sentimental journey some 10 years ago. These initial entries, as they were meant to, dealt with my last weeks in Cuba and subsequent departure from this Caribbean island, from the city that saw me come to life and where my childhood and young adulthood were spent and, most importantly, from the family who had been my world and my safety net whenever life made it a point of bringing me down to size. 

Usually a very small size.

Several times over the years I have been forced to, or have willingly chosen to, close yet one more door -so to speak- and begin anew. Several of these occasions have already been explored in these entries, so I won’t bore you with the details at this time. But, in going over these it becomes apparent that the act of starting anew has never been a difficult decision to make or to accept for me. Most people would question why, after having lived in one place for a while or after having shared a situation for a time, entertain the idea of leaving it all behind and go out and explore yet another unknown.

I have spoken to several friends who have gone through similar early life experiences and many -not all, mind you- when this subject would be presented and broached, did indeed recognize it as a familiar feeling. What does this have to do with “roots”? Maybe nothing; maybe everything. Over the years, while being able to develop an attachment to a place where I have lived for a while, the feeling of “fully belonging” hasn’t quite materialized. If someone were to ask me,

-“Can you go back to your roots?”

My answer would most likely be that the make-up of my life which could be deemed as such, is now so long in the past that it has become, simply, memories to be enjoyed. Time has taken its toll and it is like looking at a set of old pictures, somewhat jagged at the edges and with their colors fading. To be sure, those faded memories are an intrinsic part of my life and of who I am, as every minute lived since then is. A lot of it in awareness, most of it in the background.

So, roots? Yes, they are there. They are as real as can be, yet in a non-binding way. I am aware of them but must admit they -for me- have become woven into that ever growing, ever expanding fabric of what, at least, my life has evolved into. I would like to think that my “roots” are everywhere this living experience has taken me, and that they include those wonderful people I have met along the way, and those places where I lived, worked or visited. 

And, hopefully, these roots will continue to grow and expand as an all-inclusive, living organism, as the next years take me where they may.

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!!   

·       Any comments please send to rjalcazar@gmail.com