~ Growing Without Roots ~

My childhood was amazing and unique. In fact, it ruined my life in many ways. I remember when I was seven, listening to the radio in my parents' room in Australia, eyes closed, lying on the rug with my head on a pillow, the sound of the branches and leaves blowing in the wind outside. I often wonder, is this a dream and am I still in Australia? Will I wake up and be able to do it all differently? Or is this my life and my memories will always be an albatross around my neck?

Showing posts with label Fidel Castro. Show all posts

1961 Fidel Castro

When we lived in Puerto La Cruz, I had a mad crush on a boy named Dane. His dad worked for Phillips Petroleum. I remember one day in class, we had to tell where we had lived before coming to Venezuela. My story was pretty boring. We lived in Port Arthur, Texas, for a short time. This was notable for 3 things, which I will post elsewhere.

But Dane had a much more interesting story. He and his family had moved to Cuba in the mid 1950s and still lived there during the revolution in 1959, when because of Castro, they fled the country (along with all the other Americans). After a short stint in the US, then were transferred to Venezuela.