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Monday, October 8, 2007

fArEweLL...

The day came when my mother took all of us to the house where he was. There we met a strange-looking man, bald, wearing glasses. He said he was Spanish and that his name was Ramon, and he said he was a very close friend of our father's. My father always sat at the end of the table... when the Spaniard sat there I rushed over to tell him that it was my father's seat, and that when he wasn't home I sat there... My mother told me later how proud he'd been that his five-year-old daughter should have reacted like that.

Then he poured himself a glass of red wine. My father used to mix it with mineral water... I asked him: "how come, if you're such a good friend of my father's, you don't know how he drinks his wine? Here let me show you." And I mixed his wine with water, which delighted him even more.

A little later on he gave some sweets, a box for each of the girls and one between the boys.

When my father died, my mother showed me a photo of "Ramon the Spaniard", whom I remember well. I remembered him taking my mother by the hand and talking to her with his head against hers. I said: "Mummy, what were you doing with that man who wasn't my Daddy?" She replied: But he was your Daddy..." (Interview with Aleidita, by Il Tirrenor Italian Newspaper, 1987)


Dear Hildita, Aliusha, Aleidita, Camilo, Celia, and Ernesto,

If one day you must read this letter, it will be because I am no longer among you. You will almost not remember me and the littlest ones will remember nothing at all. Your Father has been a man who acted according to his beliefs and certainly has been faithful to his convictions.

Grow up as good revolutionaries. Study hard to be able to dominate the techniques that permit the domination of nature. Remember that the Revolution is what is important and that each one of us, on our own, is worthless.

Above all, try always to be able to feel deeply any injustice committed against any person in any part of the world. It is the most beautiful quality of a revolutionary.

Until always, little children. I hope to see you again. A really big kiss and a hug from Daddy. (Farewell Letter to his 5 children, 1966)

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