Stories: Part 8

  • I came to this country alone. Newly wed, my husband was the only person I knew. I did not know American traditions, culture nor, believe it or not, the language (as I came to realize that humor, spelling and nuance were quite different depending on which area of the country I was in). What I knew, as an immigrant, was I had to prove my worth. My children HAD to do well as many people told me they were HALF English, meaning they were only HALF American. Nope, my children are AMERICAN. My story is so small but my experience is not unique.

 

  • I was 19 years old at the time in 1972 and pregnant with my first baby. My first husband who was going to be her father decided to paint my toenails BLACK with a magic marker..BTW in 1972 that was unheard of to have black nails of any kind..with those magic markers in those days you could NOT wash it off of anything no matter how you tried! So here I am GIVING BIRTH to my sweet daughter with my feet up in the stirrups WITH THESE BLACK TOENAILS!!!! Everyone that was there for the birth just kept laughing! Thanks a lot Tommy (my husband).

 

  • My great grandpa Gonzalo was from Mexico City, and he would go back to visit his family a couple of times a year. Once he came back with a traditional outfit for his granddaughters to wear. But he could only afford one and my great grandma stored it in her special cedar chest. No one was allowed to touch it or open the chest except once a year the neighborhood hosted a parade and each year they would let one of the granddaughters wear the outfit in the parade. My mom. my aunt Pat, my aunt Linda, aunt Wilda, my cousins Yvonne, Charlene, and Laura all walked the parade in the outfit.

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