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Words do not begin to be worthy of my Mommasita's magnificence and grace. She taught me so many things and unlike most parents today it was by example not just with words. I do not recall my Mommasita ever expressing hatred towards people or things. There were things she would not tolerate, not for any reason, 'pets' in the house was one. Still she really loved our German shepherds, especially our first dog, Sheba and then King. She loved Sheba and King so much that my Mommasita made them homemade caldo (chicken soup) with corn tortillas every day. Mommasita's favorite color was red, red gloves, red shoes, red clothing, red hats, and a red, black top, Camaro convertible, red anything. She loved elephants, she loved that I loved horses and she would buy me little ceramic statues or calendars of horses.
Since my Mommasita was a child, she had a fear of bulls. She was gored by a bull, and it stayed with her throughout her life. In 1994 she had a chance to walk through her fear of bulls and without hesitating she did just that. Mommasita and I were at Tamara Murphy's ranch in Puyallup, Washington. Mommasita, Sandra and I met Tamara at the Seattle, Washington airport. We went to pick up my Mommasita and Tamara was sitting in the lounge upstairs. Sandra and I were late getting there, and I thought that Tamara was my Mommasita and went running towards her as she stood up. I just grabbed her and gave her a huge hug. Tamara pulled back from me, smiling. I realized as I was telling her I loved her and missed her that she was not my Mommasita. My Mommasita was walking into the lounge at that point and as awkward a moment that it could have been for everybody, we all just embraced it. Tamara could see the resemblance once she met Mommasita and she was taken by the moment and invited us to her ranch. Mommasita and I accepted, it was so beautiful there. Mommasita and I went for a walk the next morning and came across a couple bulls on the property. My Mommasita crouched down in front of one of the bulls on the other side of a fence. She put her hand through the fence and in between the bulls’ horns and lightly moved her hand from one side to the other. She smiled and then she looked over at me as if to say thank you and I answered back and whispered, thank you God. Oh, and yes, Mommasita was wearing red, red pants.
Whenever anyone said, "You got it" if my Mommasita was in hearing distance no matter where she was or who she was with, she always responded with, "Toyota." She married three times, and divorced twice, she loved my dad Albert, but not like she loved Pete Pagel. He was the man she truly fell in love with, and she loved him like no other. She divorced Pete, I will never forget when she called me in New York for my advice. Of course, I told her to get rid of her kids and stay with Pete. Leaving someone because your kids are interfering with your marriage because they’re jealous or insecure, the worst reason for divorce ever. I told my Mommasita right out, her two children and Pete’s two sons that were causing all the problems... not worth leaving each other over. For that matter, not any of her or his children were worth walking away from each other. I went on to tell her that generally, children usually grow up and go on to live their own lives. She would eventually be alone and so would Pete. It broke her heart to do it and she did regret it.
From the time when we were very young, we learned that no matter what we saw or heard from others regarding how they treated people of color we were not to follow their words or cruel and senseless acts. We were always to treat all people equally with respect and dignity. The test presented itself to us when we were confronted by racism and white supremacy. Our uncle was extremely racist and was filled with hatred towards people of color. My uncle was constantly using the ‘N’ word and it really bothered me and my Mommasita. I will never forget when Mommasita had finally had enough and reminded him that she, her family and his wife and her family were Mexican. Nothing changed, he just smirked and walked away.
One of many things I absolutely cherish is that both my Mommasita and dad did not raise me to be nice to anyone. I was raised to be respectful and mindful of my elders and my friends. It's clear to me that teaching a child to be nice is grooming them to be vulnerable. Children want to please their parents, at an age when they cannot defend themselves they're being nice to an adult whose intentions are evil, it is dangerous.
The most important lessons my Mommasita and dad taught us were about God, Jesus, love, faith and hope. We were raised Catholic but once we were old enough, we had the freedom to choose our spiritual or religious direction.
We lived in Tijuana, Mexico until I was five then we moved to Chula Vista, California, it was 1962. At that time, we were five children, two boys and three girls. Unfortunately, my father, Albert Whitney Thompson, was hardly ever at home. He worked for Global Marines, an oil drilling company with headquarters in Texas. Dad's work demanded that he spend a lot of time away from home. That left my Mommasita alone, on her own, in the United States. She spoke and understood very little English. It had to of been very hard on her, but she never expressed it in her day-to-day life, at least not in front of me.
My dad forbade my mother from going to school to learn English. I imagine my dad had some serious issues regarding insecurities with the fact that my Mommasita was an independent, beautiful, and strong woman. Because of my dad’s insecurities, learning English took much longer than it ever needed to. But my Mommasita managed as best she could to maneuver her way through conversations. She asked us for help when she had difficulty understanding something. She was not at all prideful in that way. Watching her humble herself like that taught me a lot.
Another very valuable lesson that I learned from my Mommasita, and my dad was this; Caring for others was not the same as caring about what others thought about me. I was not to give so much importance to what others thought about me. I was to be myself, to live my life, and while doing so to be kind and caring as well as giving and helpful to those in need. But not to care about what others thought about me, the way I dressed, talked or was. My Mommasita had a house rule, never come home with something to eat, and sit at the table eating it in front of everyone unless I had enough for everyone. She would explain that it would be cruel to bring home a candy bar or ice cream and make my brothers and sisters drool while watching me eat it. I agreed with her, I saw clearly how that would be cruel. I certainly would not want someone doing that to me.
One night we were in Tijuana, Mexico, and the next morning we woke up in Chula Vista, California. Even though our lives drastically changed it was not a difficult transition for us as it was for my Mommasita. Through no fault of her own she did the best she could with all the restrictions the language barriers that my father imposed created for her. Once in the United States the most significant thing I recall was hate, something we had never been exposed to, or encountered in Mexico.
Except for two of our new neighbors on Second Avenue in Chula Vista our neighbors were very welcoming and kind. We were only there for a couple years and then we moved to Australia. There were seven of us now, two boys and five girls, one a toddler, and the other an infant. Mommasita loved Australia, she missed her family from Mexico and not being able to see them, but she absolutely loved Australia. Later throughout her life she would say again and again that she wished she'd never left Australia. I always felt the same. We were there for six months, and my dad supposedly passed away. There was a body that was declared dead, and it looked just like my dad. But strangely my dad was dead and bleeding in the photograph that a reporter took of him at the morgue after he'd been dead for a duration of time. Dead people can't bleed.
We returned to the United States to restart our lives for the third time in less than a year. Of course, my Mommasita's whole life changed as did ours. It was near impossible for my Mommasita to find a place to live being she was dark skinned, and she had seven children. In the meantime, we stayed with my Aunt Teresa and Uncle Juan Cordero in Tijuana.
My Mommasita finally found someone willing to rent to her. We moved into a small apartment in Imperial Beach, California. Which was minutes north of the Tijuana, Mexico border. The bedrooms looked like military barracks lined with bunk beds. We lived there until our home on Second Avenue was vacant. My poor Mommasita didn't know that she could have evicted the tenants and taken possession of her home immediately after returning from Australia. Of course, no one bothered to inform Mommasita about this crucial information either. Because how much easier it would have been on Mommasita to not be displaced for months while she was grieving the loss of her husband. All while caring for her seven children on her own and there was the language barrier. My Mommasita was one of the strongest and most courageous women I have ever known. As soon as Mommasita had all of us settled back in our home on Second Avenue in Chula Vista, Mommasita attended night school to learn English. At a future time, she decided to go to college at Southwestern. She went on with her studies and graduated top of her class. She received an invitation to apply to Harvard college to continue her education. She was overwhelmed and so proud of herself as I was. Mommasita still had her two youngest and was not about to even consider leaving them at home, so she declined the honor.
I never believed that my dad died in that accident as was reported. Not to this day, after many years of irritating my Mommasita with conversations that I insisted on having about what happened to my dad my Mommasita finally told me that dad told her in Australia that he worked for the CIA. Of course, I started jumping around flailing my arms in the air and the same question turned into a thousand. Questions that just frustrated my Mommasita because she had no answers for me, she just didn't know. She probably didn't even know at the time what it meant that my dad worked in some capacity for the CIA. Global Marines was extremely abusive of my Mommasita regarding their financial obligations to her because of how my dad died.
When we came back to the United States, Mommasita also had to contend with people who presumed she had received millions of dollars when she did not. What she received was very little and not enough to manage her needs and expenses for herself and her children. Not that it was anyone's business, but my dad had very little life insurance. Thank God for Mr. Boyd who insisted that my dad provide a means of financial help in the event of his death while we were in Australia. Although the policy was not enough, it was more than nothing and proved to be one of my Mommasita’s saving graces.
Maria Guadalupe 'Lupe' Cordero, was my beautiful Mommasita, she was born in Tepic, Nayarit Mexico. Her mother, Petra Cordero passed away at a very young age from cervical cancer. It devastated my beautiful Mommasita, Grandpa Pedro Cordero and all her siblings. I don't know how she did it. Mommasita had to grow up very fast after Grandma Petra passed away. Taking on a lot of adult responsibilities alongside her eldest sister Rosario. I don't know how she was able to take care of her siblings and continue with her education, somehow, she and her siblings managed.
Most people reading this are probably picturing my Mommasita and her siblings just turning dials, pushing buttons, or hitting switches, like we do today. But no, that's not at all how it was. There was no electricity, so they got up very early in the morning. First, they had to load the stove with charcoal bricks then light it so they could prepare breakfast. They had to wash all the clothing by hand. They shopped for fresh groceries each day. It was a time when boys and men in the family were given preferential treatment. Which meant that the girls did all the hard work. Girls and women were subservient to their male counterparts not just in the family but in the world. Mommasita always had a dislike towards that tradition and belief. It wasn't just in her home that she felt this way, she also had a real problem with the notion that men were superior to women when it was expressed as such in literature, especially in the bible. When women were referred to as less than just because they were women it infuriated her.
It is so hard for me when I think of everything that my Mommasita stood for and how far she brought herself. She gave up all her dreams for her children only to end up as she did. Wondering as she lay there confined to her bed by two of her daughters, what did I do? Asking repeatedly, what did I do? She did nothing, she was so precious. Dear God I miss you my Mommasita so much, each and every day of my life. I am the walking dead since you left me. Since you left this earth.
One of the last things she repeated was that she chose the wrong people to oversee her life. I'm sorry that most of the world didn't get a chance to know her. She always wanted to go to Paris, it saddens me that she didn't. My Mommasita was so grand and majestic, so loving and generous and kind. Her home was always open to anyone who needed refuge or something to eat. I couldn't tell you how many people, complete strangers, that I would bring home with me. She never hesitated or questioned me. She welcomed them with an open heart. There were always friends having dinner at our house or taking a plunge in the pool. My Mommasita's humanity was not expressed through foundations. It was from a wealth of giving to those in need who crossed her path.
Me • Mommasita • Kathleen (daughter-in-law) • RIP My One & Only True Love • Rome
Kina (daughter) & Mommasita
I miss my Mommasita so much. My heart is broken into a million pieces, not only because she has left us but especially because she did not die of natural causes. I do believe that she would still be here celebrating her life if not for two of her daughters. I am grateful to God that I can find some peace in knowing that once she held me in her loving arms, now she covers me with her wings. Nothing will ever make me better, I am only here because of my faith in God and the fight for justice that I promised my Mommasita I would bare for her.
My life wants to fall apart on me, the only thing holding it together is God. I have known so much death throughout my days on earth, it is difficult to live with so much loss. Almost everyone I knew and loved so much while growing up has passed away. Once my Mommasita passed of unnatural cause I was no longer complete. A part of me feels dead now, beyond reach. Even so, through all of it, I do cherish and value the fact that I had an amazing life and that my Mommasita made the sacrifice that she did to guarantee it. It helps me these days more than ever that I can lean on my memories of days gone by. Fond memories that to this day are always close and in my heart. Especially memories of time I spent with my Mommasita, just her and I. They help carry me through the nights that seem harder to endure without my Mommasita than the days.
When I was around nine, I would often come home from elementary school in the middle of the day. I saw a boy do it once and I asked a teacher what he was doing. The teacher told me he was going home for lunch. I asked if I was allowed to do that and she said, yes, so I just left and didn't come back to school until the next day. I really enjoyed myself, so I started to do that more and more until it seemed like I was doing it every day. On my way home I stopped at 7/11 for some hard candy and a mounds bar for my Mommasita, then went next door for an Icee. I got home and just hung out with my Mommasita. She and I would drink coffee together and talk about everything and nothing. Or she would tell me the most amazing and wonderful stories about her life. One of her stories that has always stayed with me was about Grandma Petra after she died. My Mommasita and her siblings began to hear noises in the house at night. No one could figure out what was happening. One night they decided to dust the kitchen floor with flour hoping to capture something, anything. The next morning, they all went running into the kitchen. My Mommasita said that she could not believe her eyes, footprints. She thought it was her mom but was not completely certain. It was a story that she would tell from time to time but especially whenever anyone asked her if she believed in ghosts.
My Mommasita made her children her entire world. Once back in our own home in Chula Vista, she immediately had a family room and an in-ground swimming pool built. She enrolled us at Castle Park, our original school. She bought a baby grand piano and had a music teacher come to the house every week to give us music lessons. We went to St. Pious after school to learn our prayers and to participate in classes so we could complete our First Holy Communion. Mommasita mourned the loss of our dad privately. Her composure, courage and strength prevailed. Not once do I recall her falling apart or not getting up each day to make breakfast and see us off to school. She managed her finances and provided for all of us generously. We always had shoes and clothing that fit, and she let us choose our clothes, except for our Sunday best, she chose that clothing for us. We were allowed to wear Levis and corduroys with fringed swede leather jackets and Converse All-Star High-Top sneakers. I'm sure you're thinking what the big deal is. The big deal was that girls were not allowed to wear pants or slacks let alone Levi jeans. We were allowed to, and we were the envy of every girl that was not content to just wear pink, violet or yellow dresses.
I admired my Mommasita that she never asked anyone for financial help. She may have actually needed it but she managed on what she had month to month and her faith and hope. Mommasita was selfless, always putting her children first, we never wanted for anything. I'll never forget when she took all of us to the bicycle store and bought each of us brand new Schwinn Bikes. I didn't want a girl’s bike so she bought me an emerald green boys Schwinn Varsity ten speed bike. She never went for any kind of public assistance, and she always paid her bills and her taxes. At least until she put the two daughters that killed her in charge of her finances and taxes. She never filed for bankruptcy; she was extremely conscious of paying her bills on time. She always said, "Pay what you owe first then you can do what you want with what you have left." A lesson I practice this to this day. It took me years to really appreciate the peace that paying all your bills first brings. I recommend it to everyone; it truly is a good habit to practice.
Back then it was required that Mommasita wear black with a black veil for a year, and she did so with elegance. If you did not already know that she had lost her husband and was carrying on all alone with seven children, you would have no clue that inside she was emotionally raging and devastated. Somehow, Mommasita found her footing on that tight rope of life. Thanks be to God Mommasita had a good sense of balance and we all went on. My Mommasita met her second husband and life as we knew it was over. It was not a good experience for me, and I will elaborate no further than that. Just to finish this, it was the 1970's and we were now six girls and three boys.
One second, one moment, one minute, one hour, one day, one week, one month, one year at a time. It is hard to believe that the anniversary of the killing of my Mommasita is here. It began when her two daughters confined her to her bed. Then they encouraged her not to drink or eat. Then they did not actually try for my Mommasita to eat or drink. According to them, her doctor had determined she was in organ failure, they were lying. They boasted that what they were doing to her was an act of mercy. But to their dislike my mom still ate and drank for Sandra and I. Sandra, and I bathed her two to three times a week. Her daughter insisted that we only bathe her once a week. We still bathed her two to three times a week. There was a nurse there one specific day when her daughter was insisting that we only bathe her once a week and she did not hold back. She insisted that her daughter give any rational reason why Sandra and I should not bathe our Mommasita at least twice a week. her daughter could not and thank God that was the end of that. According to her two daughters, my mom was too sick to be kept alive but not too sick for her daughters to have her transported to a neurologist to be declared incompetent. I will never forget her daughter removing my Mammasita's breakfast tray from her as she was eating and throwing it in the sink. Or my Mommasita telling her daughter the reason she did not eat for her was because she was afraid of her and because they kept telling her she did not need to eat or drink if she did not want to. My Mommasita died a horrific tortuous death at the hands of two of her daughters. They gave my Mommasita so many drugs until finally she became non-responsive. They stole her breath of life from her, and she died. It is more than I can bare and seriously the only thing that gets me through is my faith in God.
Be assured that my Mommasita's two daughters and anyone else involved with my Mommasita's demise and unnatural death will not get away with what they did to her. A wrongful death civil case against all those persons and agencies that contributed to my Mammasita's unnatural death shall be filed with the courts. As advised by legal counsel, I am waiting for the probate process to complete and then I will be able to pursue justice for my Mommasita through a wrongful death action. I a currently fighting one of her daughters that killed her for the right to keep the home that my Mommasita bequeathed three of her daughters. Me, Petra, Kina and Ceinwyn. I also want you to be aware of the truth and not the fabrications her daughter that killed her has posted online about my Mommasita. My Mommasita graduated with honors and went on to attend nursing school. She didn't care for it as much as she thought she would, so she switched to a secretarial school. She worked for the president of General Electric in Mexico City. She only stopped working there to go home to help with her family.
The best advice I can give anyone regarding protecting themselves from this ever happening to them is to be well educated as to the laws in the state you live in regarding your age. Make sure that you examine the laws that pertain to Dementia or any other mentally compromising diagnosis or state of being. Do not use your children's attorney to write your will. You yourself register all your legal documentation and keep the originals for yourself. Give copies to everyone who is listed and to at least three others you trust who are not on any of your legal documentation. Update all your legal documentation every two years so that all your wishes are current, registered and filed in a court of law.
Thank you and please, I beg of you, keep me in your prayers, God bless you all. May God carry me through to the other side of this river of pain. Dear God give me the courage and the strength to endure this good fight for Justice For Maria, my Mommasita. Help me God, bless me with wisdom and understanding throughout. Help me God to see this just fight through to the end. I beg you God bring your light to the darkness and evil that was perpetrated against my Mommasita at the hands of two of her daughters. As well as all others who contributed to my Mommasita's demise and her unnatural death. In Jesus name I pray, Amen, amen.
Kina (daughter) & Mommasita
My Mommasita • So Adorable
Sandra • Mommasita • Tom • Kina