Bridge Valentines Game

The Boy from China

"Hello Mr. Manny
are we playing bridge this Saturday ?"

Hello Mr. Manny
I have a question about this hand.

Hello Mr. Manny
do you want to try some new convention today.

Yes, Mr. Manny
I remember there are only 40 pts in a deck.

Yes, Mr. Manny
when in doubt bid 3 No-Trump.

Thank You, Mr. Manny
that was a tough hand.

Mr. Manny
I like the bridge players.
They are all so nice to me.

The Boy in Baltimore
 

This boy is the youngest of four.
 

He dances to the beat of his own drummer, but always aware of his older sister who must control the court. Willing to participate in whatever show she is masterminding.

 

 

When visiting his house or dad's mancave, he shows up with a BIG smile and some toy to share. His lips showing whatever he recently ate.
 

Over the next four hours, he will change his "costume" or dress his arm like it is missing. There is always a discussion of Jaws and the sharks.
 

At any point, he will jump on my lap and tell me a story in his life.
 

His father always watching. He tells his dad that he loves him more than God.
 

He aims to please and he has a cest for life.
 

I look forward to watching this young boy become a man, but teenage years must come first.
 

I will miss my boy at the mancave.

That Boy, That American Boy in Cuba

That Boy, That American Boy
(From Cuban trip #2 July 2011 with American friends from DC)

That boy, that American boy with eyes so curious, with a smile so wide

Only 15 and yet so grown up Playing basketball
with Men who have experienced Castro's Cuba

Playing with Men who also once had curious eyes and wide smiles,
but now are hard by 50 years of communist state

A boy with so many questions even though he has study his history in school

A boy who follows his Dad's footsteps so close they are like one
His father brought him to Cuba to see first hand the failure of a communist system

They have travelled the world all over but yet this seems like the first time to another country

A boy who wants to take his first sip of cerveza
but looks closely at his hero for approval and then gives that ugly face we all did when we had our first beer

A boy with so many questions about math, about Cuba, about life

A boy whose very words brought me to tears when he said,
"I wish I have brought some of MY clothes from my closet to pass out to the kids on the streets"

And yet this boy is very different then the boy I met on my first poem about Cuba

This boy will have everything he can ever want

A Father, a Mother, a brother, a basketball team, and freedom to grow as he wishes

A life where he can learn about the people of the world and vote for whomever he likes when he turns 18 (soon very soon)

And in the end, on his way back to freedom, he buys a souvenir for his Mother
always looking back for his Father's approval.

Raining Day in Boston - Brandon's blog

Its a rainy day here in Boston, MA and I just left Mass on this 4th Sunday of Lent. I was thinking as I held Sophia next to me under the umbrella while the rain came angrily from the side, that rain is such a beautiful thing.

We live in a pretty dirty city, it smells and trash sits piled on corners and it ditches, but the rain helps to wash it all away. The rain has a cleansing effect on this great city and although we find it an annoyance, we should give thanks for it.

Having just left St. Cecilia's, I couldn't help but draw the parallel and find the divine humor in a terenchal down pour cleansing the city, as the season of Lent cleanses so for Easter to come.

In Baptism, water cleanses us and for these 40 wonderful days we remember the healing power of Christ and prepare ourselves for the saving work he accomplished on the Cross.

My brother's blog on Cuba

Thursday, December 30, 2010
Cuban Curse
She burns a hole in my head like a lost lover.


Can’t stop thinking of her and her people.

I am cursed by images of stagnant towns where men and women pedal old-style bicycles

And the grillas drawn by boney mares who await their feed.

The blacksmith puts on horseshoes with hanger wire for nails.

The young people sit and think of what is not to come.

Hope is on hold.

We visit as if visiting a prison.

They cannot leave nor even talk about it.

Yet you know that is all that they hope for.



Highways empty with a mixture of the old and the new.

A 57 Chevy ambles along at 45 while we cruise in a rental at 80.

I am ashamed of what little I have done

and hope that our people do not see and God will forgive.

What to write, what to say to them.

How to help.



I think of Valladares and Lino and Emy.

Not to mention all those great men and women who gave their lives

Or at least endangered them in the name of freedom

My father and sisters among them.

Am I cursed?
Posted by Mel Suarez

The Story that must be Told

"My Cuba: a visit to Cuba"
by
Manuel Ignacio Suarez-Gaston Carreno Segerra de la Casa de Suarez, Castile de norte Espana. Padres Manuel Antonio Suarez-Carreno y Eloise Gaston de la famosa familia Melchor Gaston


The story of Manny Suarez’s revisit to Cuba after 50 years (1961-2010) with his "grande hijos que como mucho" Brandon Hagen Suarez-Wentz y Austin Lee Suarez-Wentz con Americano Amigo y "hermano" fuerte Estaban Cusinos (Steve Kitchens.)

the body wants sleep , but

the mind will not let it

too many stories

too many ideas

so little time

for what purpose ?

i do not know

but I must tell my story

My Cuba

The Boy

In the end,

a boy in "prison" (Cuba) gets a little gift from his friends from the US...who, every time they arrive, they kick him out of his room and make him sleep in the Laundry room

a boy who is an angel

a boy I watched sleeping while I cried and thought of my two own boys....my own boys who I kissed every night and thank God for such miracles

a boy who wakes up 5 minutes earlier to see his dad, who waits for him outside the house because he is no longer welcomed inside the house

a boy with two school friends playing computer games like Billions of children around the world....the world is really Flat

a boy that wants to learn how to do puzzles and also dance

a boy who does not know why the State tells him what he must become

a boy that hugs visitors who drink his milk and eat his honey

a boy who sees his mother do everything and anything to help him succeed in the system given to her by Batista, by Fidel, by the CIA and by Russia

a boy that touched my heart and I hope to see on TV or live someday dance to the most beautiful music the world

a strong boy, a smart boy, a beautiful boy of God....an angel from heaven

a boy very much like my two boys