Two kisses. One firmly planted on each cheek. It’s the customary Spanish greeting practiced between family and close friends, as well as any others who happen to be in the mix. Even if there are only a few family members in a larger group of mixed people, all happily join in the love fest, all appreciative of the opportunity to participate. 
The amazing power those two kisses have. It’s magical actually. They break down any existing barriers and walls, melting away lingering animosities and static energy. Actually making it completely impossible to carry on a grudge with a family member or close friend for any period of time.
The customary greeting that incorporates the kisses has lasted through the generations, but many customs and all generations come to an end. The end of anything ushers in change. Change is inevitable and inherently good. As I grow older, the anxious anticipation wondering what challenge is going to hit next has been replaced by the excitement of the endless possibilities. One of my favorite John Lennon quotes resonates more and more with me every day – “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” Just when you feel like you’ve got a handle on things, finally know the players and familiar with the playing field, start believing you’ve actually got the ground rules down and understand the game, everything shifts. With Jerry gone, in his stead John Meyer now appropriately warns the throngs of Dead fans, “When life looks like easy street, there’s danger at your door.” Regardless, the show goes on.
For my entire life, flying to Spain meant one thing – I was about to spend time with my father, affectionately known as Papaito.
But there’s that pesky change thing again, and nothing is more immediate and earth shattering than death. After Papaito’s passing in June of 2007, the one grounding certainty to my Spanish travels became my visits with my “Tia Preferida” and “Spanish Mother”. With the death of Tia Ana a few years ago, the last surviving sibling of my father’s immediate family gone, so ended the Pastor de Masferrers. The family crest and honors to lead the remaining and ever-growing motley Pastor crew have been passed to the new patriarch of our clan, my primo Adolfo. Now the guardian of the family stories, where the Pastor family grape vine begins, and the point person responsible for gathering the masses for special occasions, it was Adolfo I called to let know I would be visiting Madrid. He took charge in the planning of a family gathering in my honor.
The end of June brought with it my final day working a traditional job and a calendar void of all of the activities which once regularly filled it to overcapacity. It’s easy to forget how constraining that work stuff can be on one’s ability to fit in even the simplest of tasks like attending a dinner party. Between the needs of your family, the daily grind pulling you every which way, and just trying to find some time to breathe, there never seems to be enough hours in the day. And even when there is the occasional block of nothing in one’s schedule, doing nothing can quickly shift from a desire to an absolute need.
My global travel itinerary mimics my daily stateside one – highly flexible and usually making decisions about next steps, in the moment, as my shoe meets the pavement. Unfortunately, making last minute plans doesn’t seem to work as well for others as it does me. Connecting via WhatsApp for a voice call, I could feel my cousin wrestling with both his excitement to see me and the horror I would be there in two days’ time. After a short dance with silence while he was thinking through all the steps required in my visit’s workflow, Adolfo continued,”Extraordinary happenings require extraordinary measures.” With that, he had his secretary clear his schedule for my first morning there. Our first order of business, el café Madrileño.
Before heading out to breakfast, I received a warm greeting by both his wife, his only daughter still living at home, and the latest addition to the family Pastor, a Spanish Water Dog named Uka. Two kisses for each, both received and given. Next to the siesta, my favorite custom in Spain, proper greetings where a single kiss is planted squarely on both cheeks (unless you’re a canine which have their own custom – endless face licking).
The greeting party in Adolfo’s kitchen my initial morning was smaller than normal, Aldolfo’s three older children out of the house and well on their respective journeys to make their mark on the world. As are my 22-year-old son Jeremy who is now living in LA chasing his dreams to be a musician, and my 19-year-old daughter Cali, living in Madrid studying to be a medical doctor. Madrid? The same city I currently found myself?
Simplistic youthful (mis)interpretations of the highly complex pretzel that comprises all that is divorce, compounded with the unending dysfunction created in its wake by her parents and extended family elders, many unresolvable challenges were created in her young mind. Almost a full calendar year passed since father and daughter were last together in the same room. Oddly enough, of all my family members, my own daughter – my flesh and blood – the least likely Pastor I’d see. The unsolvable puzzle, yet a puzzle I personally wrestle with every day trying to at least come to terms with. So far unsuccessful in every way. Since everything is made better with sweet treats, this goloso’s thoughts shifted back towards our breakfast plans – the most wonderful invention ever – churros y chocolate.
The topic of conversation at every table in the chururia was about the unrest in Cataluña. Having my grandfather’s family in Madrid and my grandmother’s in Barcelona, I have been doing my best to get a handle on all of the various arguments and points of view. I have been following my Barcelona family’s posts on Facebook and was now getting Adolfo’s take on the King’s position firsthand. But admittedly, the whole situation sounded like California wanting to secede from the United States. Every country has a region rich in resources and industrial prowess, but could you imagine Mississippi, Alabama, and Arkansas losing their sovereignty and kicked out of the USA because they weren’t pulling their equal weight? My naive self just hoping everyone would just get along, having little interest in any party lines, only wanting to be able to visit my family and travel effortlessly through a country I love peacefully.
It had been several years since my last visit with the family, Adolfo and myself spending the morning buzzing around Madrid catching up. Funny how one’s daily conversations shift from the all-encompassing “me” focus as a youth, to sports and sport cars as an adolescent, to the latest happenings of the children and your latest ailment as a new parent, to the health and happiness of the greater tribe as we pile on the years.
My day was spent drinking up all the family love. I was handed off from one cousin to the next. Each get-together garnished with food, beverage and an endless barrage of adoration and affections.
Biased for certain, Spain is my favorite country to visit. Having loads of family there provides a completely different perspective as a non-native visitor. Instead of seeing the country through hotel room windows and taxis and restaurants and museums, I’m afforded a front row seat to the day-to-day happenings of the locals. Besides the kindness and palpable warmth of the people, there is the amazing weather, and of course, the Spanish food. Food so extraordinarily delicious the Spaniards consume it non-stop from dawn to dusk.
In the morning you wake up to coffee and some sweets to dip in it. Then comes the savory like Jamon Serrano, manchego cheese, accompanied by toasted fresh bread and butter, as well as a tall glass of fresh squeezed orange juice. As noon approaches alcohol is introduced into the mix with a caña or a glass of wine and a tapa or three. Then around 1:30 pm or 2 pm there’s a full lunch with multiple courses. Followed by afternoon coffee and sweets. More snacks and a big dinner. Then dessert. Then comes the fruit plate. Late night snacks and a drink before bed. All this non-stop eating leaving me to wonder how the people walking along the streets aren’t all morbidly obese.
In fact, just the opposite. It’s hard finding anyone who is not in fantastic shape, tan and dressed like they are about to head out for a turn on a fashion runway. And not only does everyone in Madrid dress for success, it’s also one of the best smelling cities in the world. Even the street beggars are drenched in aftershave.
The first thing that immediately caught my eye as I explored the city was how much parkland and undeveloped areas there were. In fact, driving into the heart of Madrid on National Highway A6, you see endless trees and wildlife habitat – El Pardo is affectionately considered the city’s lungs. One of its most notable buildings being the Royal Palace of El Pardo (built in 1406 by the order of King Henry III of Castile), the castle was surrounded by forest which was used by the king as a hunting grounds. This land has been virtually untouched to date, encircling the sprawling metropolis. 
The capital of Spain, Madrid is its largest municipality. The city has almost 3.2 million inhabitants with a metropolitan area population of approximately 6.5 million. The third-largest city in the European Union after London and Berlin, Madrid covers an area of 233.3 sq mi. The city has been occupied since prehistoric times, with archaeological remains of Carpetani settlement, Roman villas, the first historical document about the existence of an established settlement in Madrid dating from the Muslim age (the 9th century). While it possesses modern infrastructure, it has preserved the look and feel of many of its historic neighborhoods and streets. I was amazed at the seemingly endless amounts of parks available to escape the hustle and bustle of the city, offering endless amazing architectural antiquities and world-class museums (a Google search lists more than 100 museums within the city limits). Walking around drinking in all of its glory, it’s no wonder Madrid is Spain’s most visited city.
Enjoying what was arguably the most delicious tuna salad I have ever had while catching up, mi primo Juan just couldn’t understand how I could visit Madrid and not see my own daughter. But come to find out he had only recently begun talking with his oldest again after several years of estrangement. It’s just not supposed to be like that. We smiled and laughed our way through lunch. Remembering those we have lost and giving gratitude for the upcoming generation, acknowledging all of the joys and challenges inherent with fatherhood.
And the family stories really began to flow that night when Adolfo got the extended tribe out. So wonderful being with family. From an incredible traditional old world 5-course feast we went to the only dance club we could find open at 1 am on a Monday. Silliness, laughter, a walk down memory lane, a Facetime call with my brother Patxi, Cuba Libres and a canuto ushered our little family gathering well into the wee hours of the morning.
Although short, my limited time with the family had my heart overflowing with love and joy. But that pesky black cloud still loomed overhead, I was dearly missing the one Pastor I was yet to visit with.
Time to jump on a bullet train to Sevilla, and for now, I would leave Madrid without having the chance to see Cali. But my optimism strong, I will have a chance to try the magic of those two kisses before I returned back to the states. The first step in making magic happen in your life is believing it will.