Escritora Challenge: Mother Figures

“It’s difficult to imagine what our lives might have been if the three comadres had not befriended Mami when she needed to cope with a situation that challenged her beyond her expectations and knowledge. Comai Ana’s jokes and stories made Mami laugh when she’d be more likely to cry. Comai Zena’s prayers were soothing when she was most confused or despairing. And comai Lola became a surrogate mother who taught her about the campo, delivered her babies, and showed that it was possible to live in oneness with her environment.”

— “Las Comais” by Esmeralda Santiago, Count On Me: Tales of Sisterhoods and Fierce Friendships

ESCRITORA CHALLENGE: Write about a family friend or a relative who was like a mother figure to you. Share your short piece in the comments section below! It can be as short or as long as you’d like.

Below is a an example written by comadre Alexandra M. Landeros, who earned her MFA in Creative Writing from Texas State University in 2004 and wrote her thesis under the direction of renowned Latino author Dagoberto Gilb. Her articles and columns have been published in Latino Magazine and TODO Austin, and she is currently working on a collection of nonfiction short stories about growing up in the United States and Mexico.

When I think about mother figures in my life, I think about one of my mom’s oldest friends: Ruthie. My mom and dad moved to Los Angeles, California from Aguascalientes, Mexico in 1976, just a couple of years after they had gotten married. My mom was already pregnant with me and immediately went to work as an administrative assistant at one of the Sears offices in Southern California. Ruthie, who also worked at the Sears office, was one of my mom’s first friends after moving to the United States.

Ruthie has known me since before I was born. Her nickname for my mom has always been “Mamacita.” She’s been there for my mom through my birth, my toddler temper tantrums, the birth of my little brother, and us moving back to Mexico. During the time we were away, Ruthie moved to San Francisco, but she stayed in touch. We were eventually forced to move back to Southern California because of financial hardships, and Ruthie continued to stay in touch with us during our elementary school years – always remembering our birthdays. In 1987, my mom flew to San Francisco for Ruthie’s wedding. A few years later, our “baby sister” was born.

Then I went off to college, and during the summer after my freshman year, I went with my mom to visit Ruthie who was then living in Berkeley with her husband. My last memory of Ruthie was from the time when I was about three years old. When we walked into her house in 1995, I knew I had a kindred spirit. She had vintage fruit labels on the walls of her kitchen, rustic country house furniture, and played 1930s jazz on the stereo. She had a colorful garden in the backyard. During our stay, we went to record stores and book stores, Vietnamese noodles and Cantonese dim-sum, the Fisherman’s Wharf, the glass elevator at the Fairmont Hotel with the best view of the city skyline, and a secret tucked-away fortune cookie factory in Chinatown. She gave me my first Ella Fitzgerald CD, an ultimate favorite of mine since then.

The summer after my junior year, in 1997, I went back to visit Ruthie in Berkeley – she and her husband had just adopted a baby boy. It was during that visit I realized that Ruthie was no longer just my mom’s friend. She was also my friend. And she was more than a friend. She had always been like a second mother to me. In 2001, she flew to Austin for my wedding. Although it sadly didn’t work out, it was the right thing for me to do, and Ruthie did not judge me for being married and divorced by the time I was 26.

Nearly fifteen years since the last time I saw Ruthie, we’re still in touch, in large part thanks to the Internet. Even though many years go by without us seeing each other, I know she is always there. I’ve watched her son grow into a teenager, and I’ve watched Ruthie grow even more beautiful, still young. My husband and I are planning a road trip to California this summer – we never had an official wedding, but we’ve been together for eight years. This journey to the West Coast, where we both have our childhood roots and our parents, is in some ways a celebration of our marriage. And I’m looking forward to a reunion with my second “Mamacita”…Ruthie.