The death of a tyrant

This weekend my family and I celebrated the death of Fidel Castro. Now, while I know that death isn't something to be celebrated, this one is. Being half Cuban, (my father was born and raised in Cuba while my mother was born in the U.S and raised in Cuba), I felt an overwhelming sense of happiness for my family and the island of Cuba.

As a child growing up my parents never denied the struggles that they experienced at the hands of the Castro reign. Spending hours without electricity, the lack of food, having to get inventive with what they did have to eat, the list is long. For these reasons and more my parents left Cuba and came to the U.S. To not only get away from the communist system, but to better their own lives.

 Almost 24 years ago my uncle decided that enough was enough. He didn’t want my cousin to grow up the way he did. He wanted freedom. So my uncles risked the lives of my aunt, my cousin, and several others to make it to this country. They came by sea and made the faithful voyage. Though there are many more who took the same risk and didn’t make it. This is the spirit of the Cuban people. Willing to risk their lives for a better one.

My ex-fiancé also lived those same struggles. As a child carrying buckets of water from the town he grew up in all the way to his house daily. Walking to the bakery to buy bread for the house hoping there was at least one loaf left for him to buy. Coming here at the age of 10, he learned to appreciate what he has in life and is thankful that he was able to grow up here.

When the news broke Miami was in an uproar. The entire Cuban community had held its breath waiting for this fateful day to come. The bastard lived to be 90, and in his 90 years of life spent 58 of those years denying the Cuban people of basic human rights. Having visited Cuba as a teen I experienced some of those things. Though I stayed with family, I still had to carry my bucket of hot water to the upstairs bathroom in order to shower, spent hours without power outside in the streets. It’s an experience that made me appreciate the little things we sometimes take for granted.

So for those who see our celebration as something ridiculous, over the top, shameful, out right wrong, do yourself a favor and Google the man. Maybe just maybe it’ll change your perspective.

 
 

Proud to be Cuban and proud to be American.