For fifteen years, Fidel never lost sight of the most important part of the epic written by more than 300,000 Cubans on Angolan soil: the life of each internationalist.
If we went—at the call of Neto and his people—to help preserve their just independence, their right to life, how could we neglect the life of a single man or woman willing to offer it there?
Raúl had been clear: "From Angola we will take with us the deep friendship that unites us with that heroic nation, the gratitude of its people, and the mortal remains of our beloved brothers who fell in the line of duty."
That is why, on December 7, Cuba did not welcome mortal remains into its tender embrace, but rather more than 2,000 heroes full of vitality, with faces, names, origins, residences, and the genuine stamp of the people.
Thus, December 7 became one of those traditions that nothing can stop: not hurricanes, pandemics, adversity, limitations, or the visceral hatred of those who blockade us and seek to suffocate us, simply because they cannot bear our history, which they will never have so clean and rich within their territory.
With the seventh dawn of December, the Cuban family advances in a beautiful pilgrimage to the pantheons where lie those immortal remains that continue to give body and concrete form to deeply rooted human values, whose durability we must maintain. History is not renounced, it is strengthened.
This Sunday was once again an expression of this; an expression of love against all time, against all "possible" oblivion.
Fidel had said it that day, from El Cacahual: "The hundreds of thousands of Cubans who carried out internationalist military or civilian missions will always have the respect of present and future generations."
That is why we once again saw mothers, brothers, children, parents, grandparents, and neighbors pause in front of the niche of their loved one, offering them the most beautiful flower or bouquet in the world, contemplating the image without death, remembering moments of great life, and reassuring them, in a whisper, that no one is alone, because we are here with them, inside our hearts.
