Miami

I arrived in Miami at around 7pm. It was the first time in a very long while that I arrive and it was not raining. I thought it would be a good sign. That was until I learned that my luggage was sitting somewhere in Atlanta, GA. I was so pissed, especially because the 80 degree weather was not working well with the winter sweat pants that I was wearing. I was fuming, as were my balls, which were basking in the 80 degree weather. My younger brother, mother, and grandfather all came out to greet me at the airport. However, they waited for me at the above level departure level while I bitched amidst car and bus exhaust on the lower level arrival section. After an hour of phone tag with my less then patient father at Hialeah central control; I figured out where they were and found them. I was so happy to see my abuelito. It has been such a long time. I was worried that I would find a weak, frail and demented version of the man I remembered. I found a strong, erect, and mentally sound patriarch full of vitality and preserved memories. I felt like crying but held my tears and remind quiet while he shared old stories. I came home as always to a super loving, affectionate, and attentive family. Everyone wanted to share a story, hug, or steal a moment with me. After hours of talk, food and shots of cafesito Cubano (strong sweet espresso) I lay down on the bed with my grandfather. We talked long hours about Northern city life, agriculture, Cuba, and any other subject he initiated, except for Cow farming which I tended to be more of a listener then speaker, until I eventually fell asleep at his side. We sleep alike, on our sides, quietly with an occasional shift of position, exhaling short low snores that seem more like sighs of relief at being able to close your eyes to the world and forget its troubles.