My mom
reminded me today of a family story that exemplifies, in so many ways, who my
father was.
As our
family of four sat on a plane leaving la Habana on January 5, 1962 – religious refugees
flying to Kingston, Jamaica, before heading to Miami – there was a moment when the reality of their situation suddenly hit my mom, bringing tears
to her eyes.
Here they
were, two people who had never been outside of Cuba, now leaving everyone and
everything they knew behind them, with no idea as to who or what they would
meet when the plane landed, or even where they were going to sleep that night.
I was the
youngest of their two children, only 16 months old, and I was crying, no doubt
ingesting and feeling the intense emotions of the two adults holding me.
Mami remembers that she leaned back on her chair and looked at her
husband of five years and said, “¿y
ahora que?,” and now, what?
Papi looked
at her, and quietly began reciting from memory the psalm that was the theme of
his life:
El Señor es mi pastor… nada me
faltará.
En lugares de verdes pastos me
hace descansar;
junto a aguas de reposo me
conduce.
El restaura mi alma;
me guía por senderos de justicia
por amor de su nombre…
The Lord is
my shepherd; there is nothing I lack… I will fear no evil, for you are with me;
your rod and your staff comfort me…
There are so
many other details about that story to tell, but today, it’s all about that good shepherd!
Because in God’s abundant and personal love for us, and thanks to His attention to details in showing His love for us… the homily at today’s All Saints School Mass –
offered for my Papi, on the 4th anniversary of his death – centered on
the image of Jesus, our Good Shepherd!
 |
| my last photo of Papi, with his great-granddaughter Sofia |
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