Nov
28
Sympathy for the Devil and to Next Year in Cuba...
On Christmas Eve 1978, as my great grandfather was in his final stage of life, we were gathered at my cousin's house in Chicago. Most of the family was there, at least those of us living in exile. I remember because that was the winter the great blizzard hit the Windy City shortly after we left.
As we were about to sit for our traditional, Noche Buena dinner, my great grandfather, who was ill and frail, came down from his room to the basement, where a ping pong table, other tables and chairs had been set up, to join us for what turned out to be our last Christmas Eve together.
As the patriarch of the family, he said a prayer, some words of wisdom and then made a toast.
As we were about to sit for our traditional, Noche Buena dinner, my great grandfather, who was ill and frail, came down from his room to the basement, where a ping pong table, other tables and chairs had been set up, to join us for what turned out to be our last Christmas Eve together.
As the patriarch of the family, he said a prayer, some words of wisdom and then made a toast.