Let’s Talk About Women

Let’s talk about women. The profound faith of the women in my family.

Not all the women in my family, because Tata, my paternal grandmother, told me early on that she preferred boys, specifically my brothers, so she didn’t have much to add to my character development except with the surprising gift of a piano when I was a young teen. —You figure it out ‘cause I still can’t!

The women in my mother’s family and their deep faith did have a profound impact on me, and even on my daughters, though they only got to meet my mother when they were young. I have written about one of them in a poem where I describe Titi Monin, my mom’s old aunt‘s ironically sarcastic comments about guys who disrupted her sense of propriety or justice. Here is a fragment of her portrait.

The Element

¡Qué elemento! my old aunt used to say

when a sharp-looking dandy

walked by her balcony

as she sat in her rocking chair

praying and cursing a storm.

What an element! What a subject!

What an item! What a creature!

There’s no translation good enough

because the sarcasm in her voice

belied the true emotions in her heart.

The women that impacted my life most were my mother and her mother.

Filial Love

Photo by Luis Rodriguez Morales

I love and hate this picture of Mami and her brother Luyo kneeling prayerfully at the foot of Abuela Provi who is sitting in a chair. Abuelo Luis took this beautiful portrait of filial love and religious devotion. It expresses so much! But the story this image brings to mind affected me deeply growing up and led me to decide to bring my daughters up in a radically different way.

You see, my grandmother and mother steadfastly believed in a judgmental and all-powerful God that needed to be obeyed, adored, and praised constantly. He dispensed miracles and punishments following his own perfect rules that were never to be broken. God intervened in their happy lives when my mother was fifteen years old and had a severe ear infection which the only available drug at the time, sulfa, couldn’t cure. Abuelo Luis and Abuela Provi asked their friends, las Monjitas de la Caridad (the little Nuns of Charity) to pray for Mami’s health. They started a novena to Fray Martín de Porres, a Peruvian mulatto lay brother of the Dominican Order who was renowned for working miracles. On the ninth day of the novena, Mami’s doctor found her on death’s door and told her parents she might not make it through the night.

Abuela Provi had been suffering from rheumatoid arthritis for several years and was beginning to have problems walking. In desperation at her daughter’s illness, she begged God to save Mami’s life and in return, she promised she would never walk again. The next morning, the doctor found my mother alert and her ear totally healed. He proclaimed it a miracle and Abuelo Luis submitted official documentation to the Vatican, which accepted it as evidence that Fray Martín should be canonized and proclaimed a saint.

Mami spent the rest of her life figuratively on her knees, thanking God for saving her life and her mother for sacrificing for her. The way this affected how my mother raised me and my brothers is a long story that I am bracing to write in an upcoming memoir, as yet untitled. What I can tell you at this point is that Mami, a sweet and gentle soul who everyone loved and never made an enemy in her life, became extremely concerned about following the Catholic Church’s rules as perfectly as she could and devoted her life to taking care of her mother and making sure her children’s and husband’s souls were saved. My own daughter, Cecilia Aldarondo, describes a particular example of this in her award-winning documentary “Memories of a Penitent Heart.” Here is the trailer. You can watch the movie here.

I’ve always believed in a loving and merciful God and strove to teach my children to imitate those qualities. Mami’s and Abuela Provi’s stories taught me to cherish and emulate their love and respect for the poor, hurting, marginalized people whom they managed to serve throughout their lives. But I vowed to give my children room to develop a faith of their own and assume responsibility for their own salvation, however they chose to define it.

Here is a poem that summarizes our stories.

Lineage

Three women fearing the Lord:

abuela in a wooden wheelchair,

Mami in her personal prayer room,

me in my hidden home office.

Abuela giving up walking 

to save my mother’s life

and fixing broken toys for poor children

as she repaid her promise to God.

Mami praying for the redemption of humanity 

and the forgiveness of her own sins,

worrying about her loved ones’ salvation

because her God was a god of justice.

Me studying and going on medical missions,

serving my family, fighting domestic violence,

crying for lost chances and unused talents

as I waited for God to remember me.

Strong in our weaknesses

giving glory to God

paralyzed by fear

united in love.

Note: the poems “The Element” and “Lineage” were first published in Alborada (Dawn), A Cross-Cultural Memoir in Poetry on May 3, 2023, by Orange Blossom Publishing. You can get a signed copy of the book here. It is also available at Barnes and Noble and Amazon.