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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