Tía Fortuna’s New Home

I love to visit my tía Fortuna in her little pink casita at the Seaway.
When my auntie was young, she lived on the other side of the sea, in Havana.
From her rooftop, she waved to the ships as they came into the harbor.
But one day, Tía had to leave, with nothing but  a suitcase of old photographs and the mezuzah that hung on her doorpost and a key to a home gone forever.
She felt lost and wept many tears, until she found her casita at the Seaway.
She has lived there for years and years.

Today is Tía’s last day at Seaway.
“Why do you have to move, Tía?”
“Bulldozers are coming to tear down the Seaway.
A fancy hotel will be built here.”
“What will happen to your pink casita?”
“My home will be a memory.”
Tía touches the key on her necklace. “Like the home I left in Havana, a memory.”

“But I want to visit you at the Seaway today, and next Friday, and always.”
“Estrella, it’s time to say goodbye and wish for mazal bueno.”
Tía gives me a hug, and her lucky-eye bracelets tinkle and twinkle.

“Come Estrella, vamos a saludar la playa — the beach wants to greet you.”
We kick off our sandals and breathe in the salty air.
“Look at the bright blue sky! The sun gives everyone its light for free.”
el sol, el sol, el sol
    “The sea roars  all night, and now it’s tickling our feet.”
el mar, el mar, el mar

Tía sinks down into the sand.
“What a pretty casita you’re making!” she says.

How can Tía be happy on such a sad day?
“Tomorrow the sandcastle will be gone…. and so will we!”
“It’s not mañana yet, Estrella. Let’s enjoy today.”