And, so, I am travelling again

https://eloquentgushing.com/qajlubl I would ask for your prayers today. I, again, thought that I would be returning to finish a discussion that I had started days ago. However, yesterday, I was notified that my first cousin had had a stroke and is in intensive care. [I also need to visit my priest friend again.]

Now, I should mention that this cousin is somewhat special. She was born on the same day that I was, within a few hours of each other. Our mothers (sisters) called each other only to find out that they had each had a child. She, however, was born just a couple of hours before me and so is the “elder” one.

But, more than that holds us together. We came to this country as political refugees. Actually, my mother, a widow, sent my sister and I to the USA ahead of her on student visas. Now, these were rather odd student visas, since I was nine and my sister was four. Of course, as you might guess, the USA government was, uhm, handing out easy visas to Cuban parents in late 1960, early 1961. Nevertheless, our mother could not tell us what was happening. Instead, she told us that my sister and I were going to visit relatives. When we arrived in the USA, we were taken to an orphanage. And, there we stayed with no idea what was happening.

https://sugandhmalhotra.com/2024/08/07/6r2myx0zn We were some of the fortunate children. You see, many Cuban children were sent on exodus during that time. Some of us did not see our parents again. But, our mother managed to escape, at night, by boat. Their boat was intercepted by the Coast Guard near the Florida Keys, and they were taken to safety and political asylum. So, yes, my mother was a wetback. Only, she was fortunate. She received compassion.

https://polyploid.net/blog/?p=te6b27yr4ti And, so, she learned English, returned to school, and got a Bachelor’s degree from the same university from which I would receive a Master’s degree–they have a seminary–a decade and a half later. (Eventually, our oldest daughter graduated from the same university. May God richly bless The Brethren Church and Ashland University.) As soon as she had a job, she began to sponsor her brothers and sisters into this country. The first one sponsored was my first cousin, her older sister and brother, and her mother. But, my mother really was not earning much and working two jobs. So, at one point in my life, I lived in a one bedroom apartment with my mother, my sister, the first cousin that is the subject of this memory, two more first cousins, and my aunt. Current laws in many places would forbid that type of occupancy. But, again, we were fortunate in that those immigrant control laws had not yet been passed.

And, so, that first cousin that is lying in a hospital bed right now is closer than a first cousin. We shared hardships together. We grew up poor during part of our lives. We struggled; we made mistakes; we raised children. In Spanish, a female first cousin is called a prima hermana, a cousin-sister. Well, she is most definitely a sister to me. (In passing, this is why I have no problem believing that Jesus’ brothers could have been first cousins. Our very language reflects a Mediterranean usage that sees first cousins as essentially equivalent to brothers and sisters.) May God protect her and heal her this day.