Lesson 3: Carpe diem, baby

 

This 1947 photo was taken during Carnival festivities on Paseo del Prado in la Habana. The car is a Buick convertible owned by Grandpa's friend Armando. The man in the mask is another friend, Porfirio, and Tio Pepe is wearing the striped pullover.

This 1947 photo was taken during Carnival festivities on Paseo del Prado in la Habana. The car is a Buick convertible owned by Grandpa’s friend Armando. The man in the mask is another friend, Porfirio, and Tio Pepe is wearing the striped pullover.

I LOVE this photo of Grandpa. It captures a moment, an era, and most importantly, a state of mind. He is devastatingly handsome, young, happy—in short very much alive and in the moment. The crowd in the background is almost inanimate. They are observers and not participants in the moment.

Note Grandpa’s display of bravura with his raised finger proclaiming a number one to the sky. The man wearing the white mask next to him raises his arms in a personal offering—“take all of me” his gesture proclaims (clearly, it is the mask talking.) And Tio Pepe hangs on to the back of the car looking like a cool cat who just jumped into the picture for the hell of it.

This picture is a reminder that you MUST be an active and decisive character in the story of your life. Don’t just watch from the safety of that metaphorical crowd which makes us passive and un-present. I have regrets, but they are mostly about big things I did not do (move from Miami, travel more…) But it’s the little treasured deeds that can spread a warm glow over your mind, body, and spirit when remembered. Never pass on the opportunity for cold champagne or crispy French fries (preferably paired together). Never, ever miss the chance to swim naked—in good company and open to what happens next. Or singing out loud the songs that made you want to love love or live forever or die happy. Or hanging out of an open-top automobile and owning the world with your smile.

Final note: The image above was cleaned up by a co-worker, Kevin Corrales (thank you). The image below is a scan of a photocopy of the original and is as worn out as the memory of that day, but this too tells a story of how it survived so we could still marvel at the magic of a long lost moment in time.seize the day original

Lesson 2: Sometimes the things you own can change the course of your life

When I was 15, I became very upset with Grandma and Grandpa. Don’t ask me why because I don’t remember, but I think it involved grounding me (a rare occurrence in the Rodriguez household–but that’s another story…) In any case, this egregious restriction on my life outraged me so much I decided I would run away from home.

First things first, I started pulling out my clothes from the closet but gave up until I could sneak out several pieces of luggage. Next up, my beloved books. By the time I had piled them all on my bed, I realized I had way too many books to run away from home. I could walk away from my family but never my books. So I put everything back and went on to more pressing issues, like what I would wear to school the next day.

I guess in the long run things turned out for the best, although I still have too many books to run away from home.

I haven’t counted how many books we have, and as you know there are hundreds more scattered all over and hundreds I have purged in the past few years. (I will never need to read Jean Genet again.)

Lesson 1: You are free to get rid of anything and everything…

But only after you have read the descriptions I will include in this virtual catalog for you both. I hope you will feel some connection not only with the objects but with me and your father. And deeper still as many of these pieces previously belonged to your grand-, great-grand and great-great-grandparents, perhaps a part of us will remain present even though we no longer are.

Should you decide your lives have no need of these things, you are free to pass them on to people you know and love, remember you have cousins who share your family heritage. Or armed with the background information I’m providing, you can sell them on e-Bay or on consignment or at a garage sale. And finally, if you don’t want to bother with any of the previously mentioned means of disposal, drop them off at Goodwill or donate to a church bazaar.

You are free to get rid of everything. I would never want to tie you down with the burden of doodads that only have the value you give them. I know you don’t need them to remember me by. But, oh how I hope you treasure one or two pieces and pass on their significance to your children or children’s children.