Chapter 13 – SECRETOS

TABLA DE CONTENIDO

Stephanie Sánchez Belén

Posted by on May 25, 2012 in 1.13 - Secretos | 2 comments

Stephanie Sánchez Belén

BURNING LOVE; AS TOLD BY MY AUNT LILLIAN – “She was my mother, Irmaculada. Wavy dark hair, light skin, and a half smile. My mother never fully smiled because she had things to sort out. One of those things was my father for she was not my father’s wife, but his mistress. Irmaculada gave him a wife’s oath, ‘’til death do us part.’ She also gave him three children: José, Irma, and me, Lillian, the oldest. Everyone in the neighborhood knew my father could not decide between her and his wife. My mother, being the decisive woman...

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Meganlee Rose Rivera

Posted by on May 25, 2012 in 1.13 - Secretos | 2 comments

Meganlee Rose Rivera

THE WAIT FOR TRUE LOVE – I always thought the superstitions of the jibaritos, the past generations of Puerto Ricans, were fake because they were abstract and hard to believe. But one night while we sat together watching our usual TV shows, I heard my Grandmother Elsie, say, “I remember the first time I saw a living dead.” “Whaaaat?” I asked, incredulous. “Yes, the living dead. That was the way people from my time called them,” she said. It was story time. I knew because she shifted her body in a certain way, crossed her legs and started...

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Ángel Rodríguez Rivera

Posted by on May 24, 2012 in 1.13 - Secretos | 2 comments

Ángel Rodríguez Rivera

    FORBIDDEN MEMORIES – “Ah, well look at this picture of your grandpa, Alfredo, and me. And that’s your Aunt Carmen in my arms. She was like a little angel,” said my grandmother holding the photograph with both hands. “So many memories come to my mind, both charming and dark.” “Dark memories?” I asked. She was staring at the picture with a blank expression on her face. It was rather frightening because it was as if she had been hypnotized by the old photo. “Abuela?” I said finally. She snapped out of the hypnosis. “When you...

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Elizabeth Lenherr

Posted by on May 24, 2012 in 1.13 - Secretos | 0 comments

Elizabeth Lenherr

IN HER WORDS –  Preface My lifelong search is about discovering my truest identity. My twenties was spent exploring life to its fullest, traveling and celebrating what I felt I had been denied growing up in a small, conservative Kansas town. The majority of my travels then focused on the States and Mexico. What I learned about myself was that I have a burning desire to explore, to learn, and form intimate relationships with new cultures. Unfortunately, I had always been under the impression that traveling was something only wealthy...

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Katia Matías López

Posted by on May 14, 2012 in 1.13 - Secretos | 5 comments

Katia Matías López

THE REAL GATO – I never thought the phrase, “De tal palo, tal astilla,” was so true. It’s similar to a saying in English, “Like father, like son.” It was Gato’s story that changed my mind. I met Gato at a Christmas party at Tia Barbara’s house. Gato was my mom’s cousin but he lived far and I had never seen him before. We all sat as a family at a long wooden table, including Gato. He was at the other end but I could still hear him very well. “Remember last Christmas when Carlos fell down the stairs?” He asked. “Yeah,” his cousin, Martin,...

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Suheily Ramos Hernández

Posted by on May 12, 2012 in 1.13 - Secretos | 5 comments

Suheily Ramos Hernández

  HIDDEN LOVE STORY? – This is a story that my grandmother, Hilda Vazquez “Mamita,” told me one sunny, Sunday afternoon. The story is about my great-grandparents from my father’s side, the Ramos’ side. Long before my father was born, a family secret began. My father’s, grandfather Bonifacio Ramos, was married to Persiliana Ramirez. They lived in Cerro Gordo, Moca in a small wooden house with their two children. One day, a neighbor, Logio Cruz asked Bonifacio for a favor. Logio had an elbow injury and had to go to San Juan to...

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Hector Negrón García

Posted by on Apr 5, 2012 in 1.13 - Secretos | 1 comment

Hector Negrón García

THIS IS A STORY ABOUT A STRANGER – A while ago, I found an antique photograph which my grandmother, Yolanda Cintron says was taken somewhere between 1948 and 1949. As soon as I held, it had a smell that reminded me of her house in El Viejo San Juan. Since the beginning of my memories, I’ve seen my grandmother as a hardworking widow. Since the discovery of this photo, my perception of her and her life has changed somewhat. I found out that the person accompanying her in this photograph was my grandfather. His name was Rafael Garcia...

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Lillyann Asencio Zayas

Posted by on Apr 3, 2012 in 1.13 - Secretos | 3 comments

Lillyann Asencio Zayas

THE GIRL ON THE FLOOR – It was 1984 when Josian A. Rivera’s lens captured Letty Zayas’ unhappy day in a Laundromat near The University of Puerto Rico in Río Piedras. Even though this is a really old picture, the scenario for me is fabulous; the clothes all over the floor and my mom screaming fits perfectly to show how she looks nowadays doing laundry. The black and white photograph and the antique laundry machines are representative of the era.  The girl in the background remains unknown, but her face adds the tone of the picture. My...

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Bessie P. Ríos González

Posted by on Apr 3, 2012 in 1.13 - Secretos | 3 comments

Bessie P. Ríos González

  THE ARMS OF MY GRANDMOTHER – “This is the first picture of your uncle, David. He looks so cute,” says my grandmother as I sit beside her in her bedroom looking through a box of old photographs. I notice that David looks he wants to cry. I also notice that the arms holding him in the background are his mother’s arms, my grandmother. “Days after this picture was taken, my husband, Benito, took David away from me and gave him to his mother, Mita, because it was her first grandson and she wanted to take care of him,” my grandmother...

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Allen Pulliza

Posted by on Apr 2, 2012 in 1.13 - Secretos | 2 comments

Allen Pulliza

THE MYSTERY OF EMILIANO: AS TOLD BY MY GRANDMOTHER GUELY – My mother and grandmother, Guely, talk about my grandfather’s father. Sometimes it’s like sharing laughs. Other times it’s a stormy day, sad and down with rain. Sometimes they whisper and speak lightly of him, especially when his son, my grandfather, Carlos, is around. Now that I am older, I think it’s time for me to step into the mystery of my great-grandfather. Because no one will talk about him, I have not been able to trace my great-grandfather’s exact origin. A dark piece...

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