Fidel Castro is burning in Hell.
If he isn’t, then there’s a country full of Cubans who are giving him one hell of a send off following the dictator’s death. Celebration photos of Cubans Americans and exiles are all over the media, and it’s hard to miss. If you take out the Cuban flags from the photo, you’d swear that it was a World Series celebration.
I have not come across the number of people participating in the festivities, but according to the Miami Herald, Cuban Americans and exiles poured onto Calle Ocho – or 8th Street – in droves, while banging pots, singing, crying, and thanking each other.
Passing cars honked incessantly. People waved huge Cuban flags. Parents carried their children and puppies. A few people appeared clad in pajamas and, in one case, flamingo slippers, jolted out of bed — and out of their homes — by the late-night news.
“Fidel Castro’s legacy is one of firing squads, theft, unimaginable suffering, poverty and the denial of fundamental human rights…“…Though the tragedies, deaths and pain caused by Fidel Castro cannot be erased, our administration will do all it can to ensure the Cuban people can finally begin their journey toward prosperity and liberty.”
The very fact that the white boy is conscious [of who his ancestors are] that, if he fails in life, he will disgrace the whole family record, extending back through many generations, is of tremendous value in helping him to resist temptations. The fact that the individual has behind and surrounding him proud family history and connection serves as a stimulus to help him to overcome obstacles when striving for success.
Knowing how my husband feels about wanting to know who his folks are, and then seeing Cubans celebrate what they have come to embrace as an act of independence, makes me feel kind of sad for him. He will never be able to fully understand the reason for their joy. He will never meet any of his Cuban family members without the right amount of cash (and no, we don’t have any of that). According to one of his uncles, Fidel Castro was the reason why his Cuban family members immigrated to the U.S., and knowing this also makes me want to run to Cuba with my husband to do some family ancestry scouting.
There’s so much to process now that we know that my husband is a little Cuban. I have every single last one of the feels, and I don’t know whether I should laugh, cry, or get drunk(er).
I pray that my husband’s extended family members in Cuba are doing well, but I’m hoping that maybe one of them is actually married to Satan. That way I won’t feel so bad about not meeting that one bad apple.