Marcos Acosta
My grandfather was a bright light in this often dark world and those around him were fortunate to bask in his light– it was warm and comforting and safe. Abuelo was so much fun, never a dull moment, a flame hard to extinguish. He had a magnetic personality and he was so unequivocally authentic–one of a kind! Still, he was humble and appreciative and vulnerable. He had a great laugh–it was contagious. Like a wildfire that swept right into your soul. Abuelo was so generous with his time. Always available, you always felt like you were the only person in the room with him. He made you laugh out loud, he made you think–he challenged you to be better. He was a great story teller and his punto guajiros were enthralling and fine-tuned. He was a great friend and his closest consortes cherished his company. It was easy to get sucked into his orbit.
He loved cigars and Cuban coffee! He loved a good fart joke. He tended to his garden with care and devotion making sure that his trees were fruitful and plentiful–and yet in an instant he would give away that same fruit of his labor without hesitation. He walked the yard and with a puffed out chest boasted about his kingdom of mango, mamey, fruta bomba, platano, aji, guanabana, caña to name a few. I never knew him to take anything, he just gave of all his possessions and his time. He had an impeccable work ethic and he took pride in quality work, never settled for mediocre.
I fell in love with baseball because of Abuelo. As a child I looked forward to visiting just so I could sit with him in the Florida room for hours and analyze every pitch, every play, listen to stories about a sport he obsessed over. Baseball was the link between his past and present, it was his sanity. He was so passionate, during one play he’d affirm a player was the best in the league and just one at bat later they were trash! The year the Marlins won their first World Series was a wonderful memory. Game 7 me, Sergio and Abuelo were on the edge of our seats. That last single down the middle by Renteria was one of the happiest most singular memories I hold onto. I remember the big smile on his face. Priceless!
For years he hosted Christmas Eve and til this day his roast pork is the best I’ve ever had–so much love went into every nuance of the process. I loved being part of this process from the early drive to the slaughter house to the prep-work at home with the sour orange and mojo to the hours of flipping and covering the soon to be meal with palm leaves as he stoked the flames to get the perfect crisp on the chicharron. I’ll forever cherish this great tradition he cultivated. With just a bunch of cinder blocks and a few bags of charcoal he showed me the greatest love for family.
My grandfather left this world on my birthday. It will now be a day to celebrate his life. He will be a reminder to live life to the fullest and focus on the things that matter most. His passing breathes new life into my life, his ember will never extinguish in my heart. I’m grateful to have known him for 40 years and can only hope to be half the man he was. I dream that El Cabo is back in his beautiful island of Cuba with a cigar hanging from his lower lip with all the coffee and espuma he can drink watching a Cuba vs USA ball game, where regardless of the outcome he’ll have a proverbial grin on his face.
