As I write this blog, I have Willy’s song Viva La Libertad running through my mind. The sway of the music, the strength of the lyrics, the passion in his voice, and the loneliness that I feel for those who are not free.

It is Friday afternoon at Havana Road Cuban Café. The kitchen is popping with wonderful smells, as we get ready for our Happy Hour, and our Weekend Specials. The garlic, the flaming brandy sauces, the energy of the staff as excitement peaks. It’s a small revolution in our kitchen!

Four o’clock and the people start coming in for complimentary Red Sangria, Camarones al Ajillo, our hot Pan Cubano with Mojo Sauce~~ Buena Vista Social Club playing and Havana Road comes alive!! Libertad, oh yes, libertad~

I think back to this morning when I woke up~~ WAKE UP AMERICA, I woke up free. You did too. So often we take for granted all great things that this country, the United States of America offers us. Wake Up America, we woke up free. Free to work, free to worship, free to write, free to protest. The list goes on.

It is now pushing on seven o’clock. In my restaurant, there are Nicaraguans married to Irish, Italians and Egyptians gather around a table, Puerto Ricans and Sudanese share tostones with Mojo. It is a global reunion. Laughter music and wine fill the air as plates of piping hot Lechon Asado or Shrimp with Rice entrees are placed in front of diners. “Table five wants to talk to you Marta”. “Ok give me a minute!”

Fresh chef’s coat goes on, I walk over to “my” corner where I take a look in the mirror, touch up my lipstick, dab a little Violet Water cologne on ( a very Cuban thing), take a second look and here I go. I am humbled by what I see. So many people from all over the world sharing moments over one common denominator~~ Food. I am out in the dining area for over an hour, talking to every table, passing the word of freedom and the need to embrace this great country. We exchange stories, laugh, hug and sometimes share a tear.

I take a moment to step outside and look from the outside in. I close my eyes and I see myself as the four year old, who stood in front of a militiaman in the “caseta” as we were getting ready to depart Cuba. He took my doll. He tore her limb by limb looking for stashes of cash or jewelry.  He decapitated her; I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. My lower lip trembled, but I would not cry. I stared with blank eyes into a young face who was starting his revolution> A revolution that killed men, women and children.

As I walked across the hot tarmac to an airplane that read Pan American, I felt with every step the heaviness that engulfed my country. I saw my father climb the stairway into the airplane, stopping, looking back and saw a tear run down his cheek. He did not cry. He saluted his country and whispered, “I will return”. He took my hand as we climbed onboard~ “ I am brave too, Daddy”. The airplane took off, full of people looking, yearning for freedom. A few minutes later, I heard the pilot say over the intercom~~ “We have reached International Waters~~~ You are now free!” The tears that I had kept inside came flowing out. I was now FREE.

The United States of America, the land of the free. Cherish it, embrace it, and love it. With all its Tea Parties, Health Reforms, Congress, Senate, it still is the land of the free.

I pledged allegiance to this nation at age nine.

I will forever be Cuban, and will never stop loving my country and my people, but I will  always be grateful for the sacrifices that my father made so that I could be free .

I open my eyes , look inside of my restaurant , and I toast—to you father, to freedom~ Viva Cuba Libre!