How I grew to become the matriarch of my Cuban household in New England

My cousin broke the information to me at my aunt’s funeral. Teresita and I stood teary-eyed, only a few ft from Aunt Silvia’s coffin, in a room stuffed with Spanish-speaking mourners cooing to one another. Tere leaned towards me, dragging the syrupy scent of her lilies along with her, and whispered, “You’re the matriarch now.”

I will need to have seemed as shocked as I felt, as a result of he gave a giggle that made grey heads flip in our path. There isn’t a laughter in Cuban wakes. We mourn Outdated World model, reliably somber, visibly damage, wearing black for weeks or months, relying on our proximity to the deceased. But right here I used to be, complicit in breaking the cardinal rule of Cookedor “mourning”: no laughing.

Was he sufficiently old to be a matriarch? The proof had been piling up, and never simply in my mirror and on my knees. I simply learn that 29% of the roughly 30 million Latinas within the US are 45 or older. previous girl vary. Like me, they have been most likely stunned at how shortly issues unraveled as soon as their beloved one previous began to die. have been the previous womennow, those that will carry the matriarch’s scarf.

The creator and 4 generations of her Cuban-American household in Lexington in 2012. (Courtesy of Ana Hebra Flaster)

It’s a magical garment, woven by resilient girls who’ve united two cultures and two nations, clung to previous rituals, protected the mom tongue with a ferocity that always leaves us in tears. All these bridges and clingings have been difficult for us as a result of after fleeing the revolution, we settled in Nashua, New Hampshire, in 1967. We did not have a Latino group to lean on. Not “Sábado Gigante,” or Hola magazines, or Mexican pharmacies, or Puerto Rican grocery shops. Even at present, New Hampshire has one of many lowest Latino populations within the nation at 23,000, the tenth lowest variety of any state.

So Mami, Tia and Abuela created a Cuban group out of nothing and chilly air. My cousins ​​and I ran between the 2 sides of our little yellow duplex on Hunt Road whereas cousinsas we’d have in Cuba, “cousin-brothers” who noticed one another on daily basis, and grew up preventing, placing on make-up, stepping into hassle collectively.

Grandma lived on our aspect of the duplex, however she would present up wherever we have been plotting and put a cease to all of it. She was arthritic and sluggish, however someway omnipresent and doubtless a spiritas a result of she would materialize in entrance of us, a stealthy ghost who made a assassin clothes previous girl.

We frolicked wherever we went. Our darkish pores and skin, the odor of garlic, onion and inexperienced pepper that permeated our wool coats, accents that left the very white residents of our previous mill city scratching their heads. We talked out loud and, all of sudden, we traveled by way of town like a tumultuous Spanish-speaking mini-mafia that refused to remain hidden. The adults within the household have been high quality with all of that. They have been completely different, Cuban and proud, and we ought to be too, Cone!

So Mami, Tia and Abuela created a Cuban group out of nothing and chilly air.

the previous they saved cash from their manufacturing unit jobs for costly calls residence, they despatched packages that may carry smiles or resolve issues for our household and mates: lace underwear, powdered milk, nutritional vitamins. To our infinite embarrassment, they performed Beny Moré data at full quantity with the home windows vast open. They might not disguise.

The moms cooked up one thing magical in that yellow duplex, however I by no means acquired the recipe. Even earlier than the pandemic, getting our 27-member clan collectively for reunions was almost not possible. Kids’s sports activities, late nights on the workplace, social engagements, folks transferring out of state.

Generally I managed to get six or seven members of my clan collectively for dinners, birthdays. I organized zoomazoshowever the odor of Beans was lacking, and as an alternative of the traditional Cuban fuss, there was only a two-dimensional grid displaying poorly lit and presumably muted cousins. And the Spanish died. Solely Papi revived him when he intervened, confused, misaligned, displaying solely the highest of his white head.

If you run away from a revolution, you’ll be able to’t take fairly photos or fairly china with you, not that we had a lot of that anyway, as a household of manufacturing unit staff and lecturers. the previous He left us intangible treasures. Spanish that calmed us down, songs that taught our infants to stroll, tales from the neighborhood that left us rolling on the ground, laughing. That particular heat of a Latin residence that surrounds whoever walks by way of the door.

The moms cooked up one thing magical in that yellow duplex, however I by no means acquired the recipe.

How do I nurture these presents, train the subsequent technology to worth them? How can I keep related with our Cuban cousins ​​now that the previous they aren’t to make calls, do you bear in mind birthdays? How do I hold Spanish fluent?

Then final yr a brand new debt to the matriarchy fell on me. On July 11, 2021, after 62 years of repressive revolutionary rule, tens of 1000’s of Cubans flooded streets and squares throughout the island, demanding change, risking jail time, their jobs, and the security of their households. The historic and largely peaceable rebellion was spontaneous. At the moment, Cubans are nonetheless at it, advocating for primary freedoms and an finish to the system that led our household and greater than 1.5 million to depart our homeland. I must bear witness to this, to inform the story, to carry the previous‘hope for justice and freedom.

So on daily basis I search for information from Cuba on-line. The stress will increase as I learn concerning the greater than a thousand political prisoners, the abstract trials, the artists in most safety prisons. I translate the stories, I submit, I tweet, I write, however the world appears detached. Ukraine, new variants, previous hatreds, too many competing issues.

Then my sister calls, grateful for an essay I wrote concerning the protests, or my nephew writes me about an amazing Cuban podcast he discovered. My son tells me that he’s sending a message to his cousin in Havana, the one we acquired right here in america just a few years in the past. The clan it’s listening and remembering, however in a extra relaxed and American manner.

Once we cannot meet in individual, we’ll use the Hunt Road Squad thread to have fun the legacy of the technology that introduced us right here. We’ll take heed to Cuban podcasts to maintain our accent alive and knowledgeable. We’ll revere the final of the previous, Papi, calling and visiting him as usually as potential, inform him, once more, how grateful we’re for all of the sacrifices of his technology. Seemingly small acts that remind us of who we’re and the place we come from.

The scarf feels much less heavy once I consider my function that manner. I’ll put it gently on my shoulders, because the matriarchs would have performed. The threads could also be looser, however they’ll maintain. The fierce love of the matriarchs won’t allow them to go.

Observe Cognoscenti on Fb and Twitter.

About the author


Leave a Comment