Luza, my mom.
She was twenty-five when she got married.
She was twenty-six when she became a mother.
She was forty-one when she gave birth to me, the youngest of her six children.
She was forty-seven when she found herself exiled in a new and foreign country.
She was fifty when she became a grandmother.
She was eighty-five when she became a widow.
She was eighty-six when she became a great-grandmother.
She turned one-hundred-two this year.
So much life….
My family continues the Cuban tradition of wearing carnations on Mother’s Day. A red carnation if your mother is still alive and a white one if she is not.
My indomitable mother is still making plans every day. Por si las moscas.
At one-hundred-two, she is most definitely ALIVE.
I will very gratefully and with great pride be wearing my red carnation on Mother’s Day this year.
Happy Mother’s Day!