Fidel Castro Ruz. Photo: InternetThe night extinguishes the light of the stars while this chronicle is born, a year after his departure. Pain, silence, sadness. Fidel Alejandro Castro Ruz died. The guerrilla, the statesman, the architect of so many battles, left without time to say goodbye. The friend of all had no return, but has eternal life among Cubans and the world.
The young man of the revolutionary Directorate, the one who dressed in olive green and raised his rifle in the Sierra Maestra, the one who organized the route of the Granma and assaulted the Moncada. The one who fought in the sands of Playa Girón, the one who raised his voice in the United Nations and taught us the concept of Revolution, took the path of heaven.
Commander! A year has gone by and even the grateful ones accompany you. The ideas are crowded and I write this chronicle. I confess I'm not ready to do it. I prefer to write about his spiritual strength, his vision of the future, his political clarity. I prefer to write about his reflections in the Granma newspaper, of the debates with other leaders on climate change and the advances of science.
I confess it is difficult to organize ideas to climb his slenderness as a statesman in this chronicle. I prefer to have him at the round tables, in the Institute of Meteorology after the passage of a hurricane, in a show of the Children's Company "La Colmenita" or receiving a sports delegation.
Quixote of many generations, you said goodbye and I still refuse to believe it is true. You left to the encounter with Martí, Guiteras, José Antonio, Almeida ... You left and leave a void that no one can fill, even if the years go by. In your absence, the lackeys of the north want to defeat the Revolution. They can not, of course they can not! This town evokes him every minute. You, from the monolith, continue to expand libertarian light for Cuba and America.
He was never afraid. He did not care about the pain, because he was always with the dispossessed. You, simple man, humble and cordial, deserves all the honors in this chronic. The personalities of letters, politics and sports, greet you and look at infinity. strength for the struggle.
Many things I could say in this gray and gloomy moment, the words resist themselves being written and pronounced. I could say that he did not die. He returns from anywhere, because he is still present. Dear Fidel, you left and we could not help it. This is life. Many times beautiful, others with hard episodes. Eternal life, Commander!
