My Motherland

“Yo soy un hombre sincero
De donde crece la palma,
Y antes de morirme quiero
Echar mis versos del alma"- Jose Marti

This past week Omar’s parents and sister went to Cuba.  Now before I get all sappy I want to stress that I have only visited the island once, so I am no expert.  Omar has his entire family over there, all his uncles, aunts and cousins.  I have some family over there as well.  Luckily and insanely odd our families are both from the same town.  Now it may not sound like such an odd rarity to some, but Artemisa is not that big of a town.  I mean it is not Havana...but no Puerta La Guirra. For some of you I may as well be talking Chinese (so sorry). 

So0o0o0o0o... back to the topic at hand.  My in-laws got back to Miami tonight.  With them my great aunt sent me a letter in response to some pictures I sent her.  I really get teary eyed every time I think about it.  My grandmother gets to see her sister every five years, more or less depends on when she gets approval to visit the US.  Her youngest brother she has not seen in about 30+ years.  I get all annoyed when I go two weeks without seeing my brother, could not imagine one year much less thirty.  The older my grandparents get the more I get emotional about it, for the obvious reasons. 

When I visited back in 2009, it was such a surreal experience.  I was born an American, but raised a Cuban.  I  think that the only other culture in the US I could compare it to is Italian- American culture.  But it really is so different I think.  As most Cubans born in the states we are told about the wonders of the island our parents left behind.  It is almost like a forbidden destination.  Pretty impossible to explain if you do not really understand the history of that delightfully crazy island. 

Part of my heritage is based upon certain things that I feel only Cubans would get.  One is the patron saint of the island, La Caridad del Cobre.  Ok quick little info she is a Virgin Mary statue that was found in the bay by 3 men caught in a storm after praying for her protection.  There really is more to it, but ummm...click here for a history lesson.  My grandmother was born on the day she is observed on, and also named after her as well.  I was always aware of her but not like I had a shrine to her or anything.  In Miami there is a very beautiful church that was erected in her honor when she too came to the states.  Before you write off my madness...just don’t be too judgy.  About 2 or 3 months before Omar and I met I was having some drama and asked her for guidance and just to help me choose a good path.  I believe she sent Omar to me...both of them.  When Omar and I were not getting pregnant I prayed for her blessing...she sent me little Omi and later blessed us with Aiden.  Why am I rambling on about La Ermita?  Well because this past visit my in laws brought me back a little wooden statue of her with some sand from el cobre (black sparkly).  The corniness is likely overwhelming, but I am so happy to have her in our home.  Not to mention that she is a native, made by hand...truly authentic. 

Although the picture is slightly distorted and makes my head look cartoony, I thought I would still share.

Here she is my little Cachita <3

With all that blabbering out of the way, I am glad to announce that this week we are going to take Aiden to get his passport.  Because we will be visiting the motherland this fall.