Tuesday, December 21, 2021
Because I can't be with the family, I am sharing some of my experiences.
My cousin Mirta
I am Maria de los Angeles Garcia Sotolongo Borzotta. I am a first cousin to Mario (Mayin) Castillo, Mirta's husband and I am a cousin to Mirta, by marriage. I am married to Robert Borzotta. Bob and I are extending our deepest, sorrowful condolences to Mario and his wife, Mirtha Elena, Oscar Vicente and his wife, Aiden, Maulio and Mrs. Hernandez, Miryam Castillo, Dalia Bermudez, Miriam and Jose Luis Rodriguez, Oscar and Zoide Garcia, Maria Elena Diaz, their families, co-workers, and friends.
I was little when I met Mirta Hernandez. We lived next door to each other in Cuba, and my life was a fairytale. I was happy Mirta married my cousin Mayin. I loved her sense of humor. And she was pretty, tiny, and was the perfect size for me. She came to us with a very handsome brother who was very smart and kind. His name is Maulio Hernandez and he was flawless too. I remember he was taller than me, smart, kind, had red hair, and was studying medicine. I was very little then, so I did the math and concluded he could not be my boyfriend, and instead, he would be my cousin. (After all, he was dating Cinderella and I didn't stand a chance.) And if that wasn't enough, Mirta brought to our family very sweet parents, Maco and Damian. What a win for me! I loved them right away. Our families got along and there was love, harmony, and respect. I enjoyed visiting their home in "El Central España" a suburb of our home town.
I was happy when the babies came, more people to love! The first born was Mario, we called him Mayincito, who was just the most adorable little boy in the world. He was named after his father and grandfather, Mario Castillo. He was fair, blonde, sweet, and precious. Then, my pretty sweet little cousin was born. She was named Mirtha Elena, in honor of her mother and grandmother, Elena Garcia, my dad's sister. Mirtha Elena was another treasure! Oscar Vicente came much later, he was born in the United States, and he was not just handsome, he probably was the strongest toddler alive. He made the playpen and the house shake. He reminded me of BamBam from The Flintstones. Little Oscar was just as gorgeous. It was clear to me they make them bigger and stronger in the U.S.
We were blessed with very lovely cousins and aunts and we enjoyed them all. Hector was very charming, handsome, and always smiled. Dalia was a natural beauty, fresh, clean, and pretty. Fifina looked like she belonged in Hollywood... I mean… The clothes, hair and make up, all day-all night, and she never had a bad hair day. Miriam was also beautiful and sweet, and I remember she liked Luisito. And Oscarito was my best friend and playmate. My sister Maria ELena was beautiful, smart, studious, accomplished, I still loved her, even if I was jealous of her. I knew I could never be as smart, or play the piano like she did, so, I decided I would have fun and dance, instead. My life was great. I was surrounded by love, fun, smart, and beautiful people, and I got around in my wheels.
And just like that, the fairytale life in Cuba I had come to know ended in a snap. They left Cuba for the United States, and I followed in their path a month later, alone, without my parents. I assure you, coming to the United States was NOT my idea.
Hector, Mayin, and Mirta cared for me and guided me in the United States. They tended to my needs, fed me, gave me support, and medical care, when I needed it. Looking back, I have no idea how they managed to do it. Gratitude does not begin to express what I feel. Mirta and Mayin had the capacity to accept me into her home when they could not afford to take another person into their lives. She did her best, always, and was kind. The only time she "lost it" was when I wouldn't unpack my bags one month after my arrival. I decided I wasn't staying in the US and I was going back to Cuba. I was living out of my suitcase. I refused to accept this was my new life. She "unpacked" my bags and explained I wasn't going back to Cuba. I had a major meltdown and cried for hours, under a tree in the backyard of the motel. The kids were mortified. They ran for help.
I was amazed at her ability to get things done, when we were all mourning the loss of our motherland, missing our relatives, our way of life, our language. She created a home in a one room motel, in the midst of poverty. None of us spoke English, and English sounded like blabber to me. These were the saddest days of our lives, and Mirta managed to find humor everywhere and in the worst conditions, with no assets, and not a penny to our names.
Sadly, as a 12 year old, I was no help at all. I was selfish, self-centered, and another child to care for, nourish, when there wasn't enough for the family of four... and then suddenly, we were 5! I had no idea how to clean or how to help. All I was taught to do was to wash my underwear. It was in bad taste to delegate that task to others. As you see, I was quite the twelve year old price!
I remember with gratitude the social programs awarded families flour, powder eggs, Spam, and yellow American cheese. Mirta used to do her best to saute Spam, make us pancakes, and sprinkle sugar on them, since they couldn't afford to buy syrup. I must have blocked out of my mind the cheese. I don't remember the cheese preparations. But we always had food and we ate. (To this day, I’m not fond of Spam, and I can only tolerate aged cheese.) At the time, Cubans were called refugees.
Mirta made friends with everybody at the motel, or anyone she encountered in her path. And because everybody shared in the same circumstances and feelings, we shared our grief and comforted one another.
Her determination, grit, and courage inspired me to be strong. It is because of Hector, Mayin, and Mirta that we all survived and thrived. I thank God for their love. generosity, and kindness. I hope my experiences with Mirta will bring you comfort. She may have passed to the next life but she lives on in our hearts. May she rest in peace. May God give us comfort.
With much love,
Angeles
