This is from this memoir in progress which I hope to complete soon — if it doesn’t kill me first!
“…When I used to drive by that cemetery that’s down the hill from Sears and I’d see the little Cuban flags stuck on the frozen ground, a name like Garcia or Perez on the tombstone, and I knew that there laid a Cuban buried over a thousand miles from his family and the place that he first called home. I always thought it was the saddest sight in the world, those little flags. Most of the old Cubans came over thinking that it was a temporary stay and most of us thought we weren’t going to be buried here. Guess what, that’s going to be me, come this winter, my little Cuban flag planted on my forehead…”