This is my official introduction after two weeks on Steemit. I have been introduced to many talented people in this very short time and I find the platform amazing. I have learned through mistakes and I will probably make more; however, I feel supported and a connection to the people here. I thank those I have learned from and I look forward to meeting many more. Life is about learning and growing. I love the channels I have chosen and the gentle friendliness of these special talented people. Thank you for giving me a chance and letting me grow with you.
The following is a short story entitled "Blanket of Flowers" and is about the blanket I am wearing, given to me by my mother's side of the family.
I recently inherited a 125 year-old Indian blanket from my mother that had belonged to my great-grandparents. This blanket is a symbol of the generation that moved from France to Mexico, and finally settled in California by the Pacific Ocean. This blanket is a binding covenant and song that binds my people together. My great-grandfather Francisco had reddish brown hair and green eyes and came from a long line of Europeans from France, when Francisco was nine years old his parents died, leaving him in the care of his two sisters. Francisco and his sisters moved from Europe to the Hacienda of Pedriceña, which is known today as the town of Pedriceña, in the state of Durango, Mexico. They went to live with an aunt and uncle who owned a business and worked in conjunction with the Hacienda of Pedricena. Francisco’s family business was raising cattle and selling crops. As Francisco grew older his sister Mercedes suggested a fiesta in order to find Francisco a proper wife. Everyone in Francisco’s family pointed to a hard workingwoman from another hacienda known for her cooking, dancing and singing. Her name was Petra.
Petra had long black braids to her waist and was dark in complexion; her people were from the surrounding area of Pedricena, and a native Tauromar Indian of Mexico. Petra’s uncle Margarito owned a dairy farm and sold his dairy products to the nearby hacienda. Margarito and his brother Manuel were in band and organized dances. Manuel’s favorite instrument was the violin, while Margarito could play many instruments. Petra had two sisters and her mother died giving birth to a son. Her father took to drinking alcoholic after the horrible death of his wife and son. Petra and her sisters were left to take care of their father, most times he would not come home, so after some time had passed they were forced to go live and work for their aunt and uncle. Petra and her sisters had to help take care of their uncle’s business and the local hacienda in order to earn their keep. Petra and Francisco fell in love during the dances that were held at the hacienda held by Margarito. Within a few months they were married and they were given a wedding blanket as a gift. This blanket would be the one I would inherit 100 years later. Francisco and Petra lived in Mexico for a few years as husband and wife; during that time Francisco joined the Federalist Army and fought for Pancho Villa. There is an old picture with Francisco standing with pride holding a rifle and bullets crisscrossed around his chest. His love for a good fight was always a part of his character.
As my grandmother Guadalupe, Francisco and Petra’s third child was to be born, Francisco was offered a foreman position to help build the Southern Pacific Rail that traveled from San Francisco to San Diego. Francisco accepted the foreman position and moved his family into a small house in Salinas, California. Their newly owned home was laid out on an acre plot of land where Francisco grew apple, orange, and lemon trees. He also loved to grow flowers, roses and violets. Violets were a favorite of Petra’s. There was a boarding house built on their property, for people who came to America to help build the railroad. The boarders living on the property with Petra and Francisco were called Nationals, because they were legal workers hired by the Southern Pacific Railroad. The Nationals would stay for six months at a time, helping Francisco build the rail lines, making it possible for food and supplies to be disbursed throughout California. Petra cooked, washed, and ironed clothes for her family and the boarders. The Nationals loved my family and always talked about Petra’s cooking, especially her rice pudding. Throughout her life, Petra gave birth to nine children and loved her husband until the day she died at the ripe old age of 80. After the death of Petra, Francisco moved to San Francisco, California, to live with his third child Guadalupe. He brought his wedding blanket as a gift to Guadalupe for taking care of him, and lived with her until his death in 1989, at the age of 102.
At the age of 16 years old Guadalupe met Augustine and was instantly infatuated with him; she eloped with Augustine when she turned 18. Augustine was a gambler and he would disappear for days at a time. He never spent much time with his family. One night after playing an all game of cards, apparently winning, an altercation arose between two unsatisfied gamblers. Augustine positioned his body in between the two men and was shot in the head instead of the intended victim. Augustine left behind Guadalupe to take care of her three children. In 1948, as a widowed woman with three children to take care of, Guadalupe was forced to go back to her parent’s home to raise her children.
Eventually, Guadalupe met Reuben and they courted for a year. Reuben’s family left northern Italy to live in Mexico, his family owned cattle, and raised them on their family owned hacienda. He started to travel back and forth from Salinas to Mexico, to advertise his family owned business. The rewards for more clients to buy his cattle would be great, as he would soon inherit the family owned hacienda. Shortly after Guadalupe and Reuben’s one-year anniversary of courtship, they were married. Their life was filled with love and happiness. After a few years Reuben was diagnosed with liver cancer. My mother Margarita was born during the time Reuben was debilitated with this sickness. She was born premature and barely lived; however, she grew strong and proved to be a person everyone loved having around. Within a few months Reuben died, leaving behind two children and one more baby on the way. Filled with sadness and depression from the death of two husbands and pregnant, Guadalupe was faced with the dilemma of supporting six children. Unable to handle the responsibility of taking care of another child, Guadalupe gave her son up for adoption. She ended up moving back home with her parents and working in a restaurant as a waitress.
In time, Guadalupe met and married Trinidad and they moved to San Francisco, California, where there was said to be work. Trinidad was originally from Tijuana, Mexico, and left home at nine years old. His father forced him and his sisters to make money to support them, so Trinidad felt “Why give my money to the family when I can keep it all to myself?” He left home to live on the streets of Tijuana. In order to purchase food, he sang on the streets and begged for money. As he grew older he became a cook and sang in a Mariachi band. Trinidad never learned how to read or write, but made sure to provide for his family by working thirty years for Greyhound. Guadalupe was able to obtain a job working as a retail manager for a family owned clothing store and worked there for twenty years. Trinidad’s favorite vice was to bet on horse races. Trinidad bought Guadalupe two houses with his winnings. My grandmother was never pleased with Trinidad’s habit, but accepted her plight and made the best of her situation. Both homes purchased by gambling were chosen for the children and the land. The children were able to have their own rooms, and the land gave Guadalupe the ability to plant trees, flowers, and vegetables, as her father had taught her from childhood. This brought her happiness and a place to call her own. Trinidad and Guadalupe added two more children to their family, bringing the total number of children to seven.
The second daughter of Guadalupe, Margarita, was a wild child raised in the 1960’s. She made beads, wore flowers in her hair, and listened to Santana play congas in Dolores Park. Margarita met Raphael when she was 17 years old and they married shortly after. I was born when my mother turned 19 years old and was their only child. Margarita and her family, especially her mother always remained close after Margarita’s premature birth. Guadalupe decided to give her parent’s wedding blanket to Margarita as a sign of maternal bonding and remembrance. This blanket was given to Margarita on the day of my birth in 1969. As I was growing up in San Francisco, Margarita and me would explore the city and stop for caramel apples. We would sit and eat them at Aquatic Park, while we watched the Pacific Ocean. Those are my favorite memories of my mother. My father was a poet, writer, and painter. In his youth, Raphael was a fighter and loved to discuss politics. His fight was for Chicanos and the rights of Hispanics in California. He believed in his country and loved United States government, so he joined the military when I was five years old. For a few years our family lived at the Presidio Army base, located in San Francisco. Our apartment sat on a hilltop overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge. Fortunately, I also had cousins living on the army base and we had great times, playing on the Pacific coast. When I turned seven years old my father was stationed in South Korea, and introduced us to the first adventure of our lives.
For military training purposes we first stopped in Hawaii and stayed for almost six months. I remember taking a helicopter ride with my father in Hawaii, as I sat on his lap, I felt the first pangs of acrophobia. After Hawaii, we went to Tokyo, Japan, for additional military training and lived there for almost a year. My memories of Japan are women wearing kimonos and window shopping on the streets of Tokyo with my parents. When we finally arrived in Seoul, South Korea, my father’s rank was a sergeant in the military police. In Taejon, Korea, we lived off base in an upstairs apartment, in Korea an apartment looks like a mansion. We lived on the second floor, overlooking the streets of Taejon, our floors were heated, we had a bathroom, and kitchen. During the late 1970’s and early 1980’s Korean people actually went to the bathroom in the streets. Women were traditionally dressed and would squat right in the street to do their business. Families would bathe together outside, and would cook in the same area. Homes were built with huge walls so no one could look in; however, if a home was high enough, it was easy to peek in to other people’s homes. Of course, this was considered bad manners and most people would never think of doing such a thing.
One memory I have of Korea was the first time I saw the Korean flag. I had no idea what the symbols on the flag meant, but over time I learned what the red sun meant and physically saw it with my own eyes. Traditionally, every home had a rubber tub to wash their laundry by hand, since I was still a child, I would sometimes bathe in the rubber tub. My mother would place the tub out on our wrap around balcony and fill it with steaming water. One day, at sunset I saw the most spectacular sight of my young life. The sun was actually bright red with a tint of orange. I felt like I could reach out and touch it, that day the sun was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. My mother kept busy by earning money by teaching wealthy Korean businessmen and their wives English. I was fortunate enough by being invited by these loving people on small trips. On these trips I saw the countryside of Korea in helicopters and limousines. One trip was to the southern coast, to a town named Pusan. We stayed in a great hotel, sunning ourselves on the beach. What I remember most of our trip to Pusan, was leaving my favorite pair of shoes with a woman and her daughter while I went into the water. When I came back to shore, I realized the woman had taken my shoes. I am not sure if I cried, but I think the foremost thought in my mind was that the woman and her daughter must have needed the shoes more than I did. Although, the family I was with bought me a new pair of shoes, I never forgot my favorite pair of shoes being stolen in Pusan, Korea.
By the time I was nine years old, I would start my day by studying with my mother. I was home-schooled until I returned to the United States. The rest of the day I explored the streets of Korea shopping for food and meeting people. Sometimes my father would take me on excursions through small villages, as I held his hand I thought he was invincible, I suppose all daughters feel the same way about their fathers. My family lived in Korea for over a year and then moved back to the Presidio in San Francisco, California. Shortly after our return, my parents divorced. However, I never forgot the precious memories of adventure shared between my father, mother, and I. I will always crave the new experiences that come with traveling to other countries and meeting people of different cultures.
As I reached adulthood, my mother always told me the story of our family blanket and the history of our heritage. The blanket would be given to me one day, and it would be my responsibility to share our heritage with the younger generations of my family. As my grandmother grew older, she became lonely for her parents, and the blanket was returned to her for sentimental reasons. Years later, after dementia and Alzheimer's took most of her memories I was honored with the blanket and the responsibility of educating the family children with our culture. It is within a matriarchal family that a woman becomes the teacher and leader. A'oo.
