I have a half brother that I’ve met only once in 1975 when I was ten years old. But I’ve always loved him from the moment we met. Its been over forty years since I’ve had any contact with my brother until October 25th, 2019 when I found him on Facebook.
Well perhaps I should start at the beginning, as this is a really long story to share.
I should start with mom. Our mom was born in 1937 in Guadalajara, Mexico. Now growing up mom was a very private person and she didn’t speak much of her home country or older brother. Over the course of time I came to realize that this was not only a very sensitive subject for our mom to speak about, but also very painful for her.
My mom was twenty years old when she gave birth to my brother Jorge on September 26, 1957 her husband was not by her side as he had been killed in an auto accident four months before my brother was born. Widowed with a newborn son, I can’t begin to imagine what an awful ordeal this had been for my mom and at such a young age of twenty to be widowed with a baby. My mom with her baby boy moved in back in with her parents, as she settled in to a new life as a single mom in an female alpha dominant home. If you never heard before growing up in a Latina home, the wife is typically the one who rules the home and is very strict, old school, old country, old culture. There is no room for bend or compromise. An iron fist and “my way” is how it is. Period.
I am not certain of the exact dates but It was approximately three to four years after my brother was born when my mom had researched, applied and obtained a position as a live-in nanny here in the US.
My mom wanted to come to America to make a better life for my brother and herself, but first she would need to leave Jorge temporarily with her parents while she made the journey to America. Mom would need to establish herself first, so that she could bring my brother here at a later time.
Being a single parent myself I can relate to always wanting to be a good provider and parent to my kids, but I can’t begin to imagine what fears she may have had about leaving her young son behind to relocate to another country, not knowing a single word of english. Or how scared and worried my brother must have felt with mom leaving him behind and how he waited for her to return to him. Before leaving for America my grandmother Susanna had my mom sign documents of consent to give legal guardianship to my grandparents in her absence and those exact documents would come back to haunt our mom later on. The year she came to the US was in the fall 1962. Our mom flew from Mexico and landed in Des Moines, Iowa and was employed as a live in nanny for a prominet family with one or two little girls, no boys. I would later find out that mom purposedly avoided gaining employment in homes with boys similar in age to Jorge. Every week when mom got paid she sent money to her parents back home to help with Jorge’s care and expenses. She started out as a housekeeper and nanny and within a year she was employed as a nurses aid at broad lawn Polk County Hospital and met my dad Tom who worked there as an orderly.
More to come…..