Abuelo

Abuelo and I woke up early and after a shot of café Cubano and a cigarette I did some dips and pull-up repetitions which the old man was determined to count out load making me push myself to do a lot more then I was willing to that morning for the simple sake of making grandpa proud of my “hereditary abilities”. He reminded me of my childhood ingenuity ability of being able to hammer many pieces of scrap wood together until I created a pole long enough to knock down the chirimollas (star fruit) of his neighbors yard and return back home dirty, with sticky hands and face as proof of my 4 year old triumphs. We later rocked our selves on the patio rockers for long hours and shared stories about Napoleon Bonaparte and other historical figures. It always amazes me that a man who never went to school nor owned a pair of shoes until well past the age of 18 could be as refined and well read as he is. I am not sure how he managed to integrate all of those books into his rural farm life in Camaguey before arriving to the Havana metropolis in his late 20’s. I still have vivid memories of looking through the pictures in the books at my grandparent’s home and understanding that they contained knowledge of a world past but not-yet forgotten, distant, , but through pages accessible. I remember him at my side explaining what the pictures symbolized and teaching me history, the animal kingdom, and of the indigenous Cuban Hatuey, Caribe, and Taino natives which always fascinated me. I like to think that my love for books and knowledge perhaps came as a result of our private time in his libraries. I later took him with me to pick up my rental car which we took to the Cuban shopping mecca of Sedanos, ( a chain of Floridian supermarkets marketed for the Hispanic community) while he shared his glorifying views of American automotive ingenuity. We went in for a loaf of Cuban bread and some cold cuts and ended up buying many other things that he required tasting before his homeland return. That man’s appetite is insatiable. My brothers and I like to wake him up in the a.m. hours to taste our batidos de fruta bomba (Papaya milkshakes) or for a cup of rocky road ice cream. He relishes those late night snacks and always joyfully rises to the occasion.