It is the middle of the night and I am awake and thinking of Cinco de Mayo. The cancer seems to be a recurring theme in my blood/ancestral line that comes from Josephine Romero my great-grandma whose life I was researching before her "died of cancer of the throat" was simply a small part of her long and amazing story. That part of the story echoed through her bloodline to my cousin (her youngest child's daughter) to my Aunt Hazel (my father's sister) to Aunt Hazel's son Albert who died of squamous carcinoma... That bloodline were Californios folk who never migrated themselves, folk who arrived in California in the 1700s as citizens of Spain, then became citizens of Mexico, then U.S. citizens when gold was discovered and the American's decided this far away place at the other edge of the continent should be theirs and took it from Mexico (ironic since those ancestors brutality stole the land from and committed genocide on the indigenous population who had been here thousands of years before). We were here before Cinco de Mayo became an important celebration to folk migrating from Mexico. I understand why current immigrants make the long journey leaving family and Home and lives in their country in search of a better life. So blessings on everyone celebrating Cinco de Mayo - the descendants of those who have been here longer than any other ethnic group from Europe, blessings on those who more recently put down new roots, blessings on those who are not even hispanic but see it as a day to celebrate (like St. Patrick's day) - it is complicated in this odd time of immigration debates - but have a beer for yourself (never liked the stuff personally) or a shot of good tequila (much better but not a good mix with my cancer meds) and Happy Cinco de Mayo! (and lol rereading this I realize it is a rambling post welcome to my cancer brain).
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AuthorAfter over a year of research, both historical and deeply spiritual, I'm starting to write my next book based on the life of my great-grandma Josephine Juarez Romero Lindsey Smith (Josie) and her family. They lived "South of the Slot" in San Francisco in the late 19th century and through the 1906 earthquake and fire. She had 11 children, seven of whom lived to be adults. Her life had been forgotten but now she lives and speaks through my heart and imagination and DNA. Please wish me well as I start the writing part of what has already been a remarkable relationship with Grandma Josie and her life and spirit. Archives
June 2020
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