Day 27 – Abuelo y Abuela
I am asked to remember.
But the only thing that comes to mind,
You came here from Cuba,
With one suitcase to your name,
On a marriage visa,
And a passport you went to hell, and back,
Fought insurmountable odds,
To make a better life,
For my mother, for me.
I am Cuban, Hispanic, second generation American,
A Jewish Latina,
Loud and proud and the best things,
You taught me,
Spanish and Yiddish and English,
It is for your wisdom, and your foresight,
That I am here, and I am healthy, and happy.
It is for your perseverance, and your struggle,
That I am a college sophomore with a future not you nor I could have ever dreamed of.
You taught me that one is not a survivor,
One is a fighter.
One must never stop learning,
For the path to the future,
Lies in the lessons we take from our families, from the past.
We recite psalms and we remember,
I remember, and I try my best to honor,