Fidel(ity)
Fidel the handsome
Charismatic
Cuban
Dictator
Died
Today
I thought he died
Years ago
Funny when
People you thought were dead
Die
Some people say good things about
Fidel
He freed the
Peasants
Educated the Cuban people
Gave them cradle
To grave
Healthcare
Others say he was just another of your
Run of the mill hell-bent for leather
Despots
Jailing
Torturing
Murdering folks
Who made fun of his beard and
Called him a lot of phony
Baloney
I know some people say good things
About me even while
Others claim I’m a real
Horse’s ass
But hey it’s nice to be considered
Either way
Indifference and
Anonymity are such a
Drag
I received news of Fidel’s death
On my iPhone
While sitting in the pediatrician’s waiting room
With my eldest daughter
Who was feeling less than fabulous —
She loves to feel fabulous
All the time
Anything less
Than fabulous
Dissolves quickly into crisis —
And so we sat at the doc’s
With tummy ache
Headache
Maybe a little heartache
And quite possibly a didn’t study for my
French test
So don’t really want to go to school
Ache
Fidel Castro died
I tell her
Who
She asks
The Cuban revolutionary
Compatriot of Che
Avowed Marxist
Committed to making all humans
100% equal
Can you imagine such tripe
Never heard of him
She says
Lot of Cubans probably
Wish
They’d never heard of him
I say
Elizabeth
Calls the nurse
A pretty Hispanic girl
Standing in the doorway
In her blue scrubs
In we go
To the exam room with the Cat in the Hat
Motif the
Cool laidback
Doc
With the eastern European accent and the
Classic handlebar mustache the
Doc my wife likes best of the
Four docs in the practice maybe
She dreams of
Bedding him while he
Whispers in her ear in
Hungarian or
Albanian or
Whatever Slovak
Language he speaks hey I dream
Too
Handlebar
Does the exam
Throat
Nose
Ears
Chest
While asking how we’re feeling today
Not so great
I say
Ok
Elizabeth
Says
She’s always telling
Mom and me she doesn’t
Feel good
Not like she used to feel
When she was a
Kid
Nothing of course but
Anxiety
As she moves
Slowly
Exhaustedly
Reluctantly
From
Kidhood to
Adulthood
No easy chore
Anymore
Being a twelve year old
They know too much
Understand too little
All that relentless crapola
Unfiltered
On their electronic devices
I’m glad I didn’t have to be bombarded with all that
Horse
Shit
Well
Says the Doc stroking his
Handle
Bar
Throat’s clear
Nose clear
Chest sounds clear
No temperature cheer
I give her the all clear
Can she go to school
I ask
He looks at Elizabeth
Looks at me
Give another stroke to that luxurious
Handlebar
And says it’s a beautiful
Autumn day
Sun shine
Warm air
A father and his daughter
Now it’s just my professional opinion
But I think Elizabeth
Would be better off
Having a long walk
And an even longer talk
Over a long lunch
In a fancy restaurant
With her dad today
Instead of sitting in some stuffy old school room
Learning next to
Nothing about
Geography and
Chemistry
Daydreaming
That’ll all still be there tomorrow
Elizabeth smiles big and
My old paternal heart
Goes pitter patter
On the way out I say to the doc
I’m not even sure why
Fidel died today
Fidel died
He asks
I nod
He pauses
Reflects
Then says
I lived in Cuba
(Coo-ba not
Q-ba)
After I got out of medical university
In Sofia
I did a residency in
Havana
On a pediatric unit
Castro used to visit
Walk the wards
Stop and squeeze the shoulders of the sick
Children
Bend down
Take their little hands in his giant
Hand the size of a
Catcher’s mitt
And tell them
His dark eyes as big as moons
La vida es una lucha
Life is a struggle
If you want to survive
You must fight
You must fight
Fidel would tell them with all your
Might
And with all your
Heart and with all your
Life
Until the moment
Fidel would lean in and
Whisper
Until the moment of
Death
