In March of 1962, along with my siblings and leaving behind my parents and a life I truly loved, I arrived in the United States to face an uncertain future. It was with great love that our parents selflessly sent us off to the land of the free. I did not understand until I had children of my own the magnitude of their sacrifice. We were never to see my father again in this life; he died in Cuba just over a month later. I bless the day in September of that year when we were reunited with our mother in Wisconsin.
Today, as we celebrate the birth of the United States my heart overflows with gratitude for my parents’ decision.