Sol and Antonio moved from Cozumel to Mexico City. With no place to live, neither resources to buy anything, he found refuge at his mother’s house. With and expectant mother and his child Pepe, he decided to get a car and start his own business as a cab owner/driver.
At this point of his life, everything he was dreamed about was just vanished, and he needed to support his new family and over all, he was back to his mother’s house, to live with her and his young brother, and as a side effect of the Diabetes his temper was getting worst every day.
He bought a car and got the license, permits and plate to offer his taxi cab services. He got the plate 5345 that will remain with him for several years. Few months later, on May 12, 1958 Sol gave birth to the first De la Mora-Carrasco, at the Central Military Hospital in Mexico City and they named Alicia Maria Antonieta. Alicia. By December on that year Sol was pregnant again and the family grew with Patricia on August 12, 1959 on the same Hospital. My grandmother Martha asked my uncle Jorge to split a piece of land they had at Colonia Portales. My uncle Jorge he started drinking and his only problem with the drinking it was he fall sleep after a few drinks. He was working for the Mexican Internal Revenue Service. By august of 1960 Sol was pregnant again… guess what! That was me… and by march 10 on 1961 I was born at 7 a.m. also in the Central Military Hospital. One of the privileges my father got from the Army it was that he kept the medical services from the Army hospital, and that was a great privilege, because it was one of the best hospitals in Mexico. Now, Antonio and Sol got a large family, so he started to build a house at the land in Portales… while the construction advanced slowly, we all lived on a little room… two beds, my crib, and a brand new Silvertone Black and White TV.
My first memories: I don’t know how old I was, but I remember myself standing on a crib holding myself on the wood bars looking at my mother walking from one side of the room to the other. My older sister was bleeding from the nose and my mother trying to make her stop… after that… some vague reminiscences… the wood on the walls and floor, the sounds of the floor while some one walked, but I remember that I spent many hours in front of a wall that was decorated with small pieces of broken ceramic plates, with different designs, colors and shapes… just wondering… why those where there…
The house was on a dead end street called Privada (Means private) and I was able to play outside… I also remember some times; my uncle’s friends brought him sleeping, and left him in the front door of the house… then they walked away laughing and joking about him…
There was a kid who had a red Tricycle, and every time he played in his wheels, looked happy and smiling… I dreamed to have some day also a red tricycle… to be happy, just like the other kid… those are my oldest memories.
This history will continue… moving to a new house… new challenges, new times…
At this point of his life, everything he was dreamed about was just vanished, and he needed to support his new family and over all, he was back to his mother’s house, to live with her and his young brother, and as a side effect of the Diabetes his temper was getting worst every day.
He bought a car and got the license, permits and plate to offer his taxi cab services. He got the plate 5345 that will remain with him for several years. Few months later, on May 12, 1958 Sol gave birth to the first De la Mora-Carrasco, at the Central Military Hospital in Mexico City and they named Alicia Maria Antonieta. Alicia. By December on that year Sol was pregnant again and the family grew with Patricia on August 12, 1959 on the same Hospital. My grandmother Martha asked my uncle Jorge to split a piece of land they had at Colonia Portales. My uncle Jorge he started drinking and his only problem with the drinking it was he fall sleep after a few drinks. He was working for the Mexican Internal Revenue Service. By august of 1960 Sol was pregnant again… guess what! That was me… and by march 10 on 1961 I was born at 7 a.m. also in the Central Military Hospital. One of the privileges my father got from the Army it was that he kept the medical services from the Army hospital, and that was a great privilege, because it was one of the best hospitals in Mexico. Now, Antonio and Sol got a large family, so he started to build a house at the land in Portales… while the construction advanced slowly, we all lived on a little room… two beds, my crib, and a brand new Silvertone Black and White TV.
My first memories: I don’t know how old I was, but I remember myself standing on a crib holding myself on the wood bars looking at my mother walking from one side of the room to the other. My older sister was bleeding from the nose and my mother trying to make her stop… after that… some vague reminiscences… the wood on the walls and floor, the sounds of the floor while some one walked, but I remember that I spent many hours in front of a wall that was decorated with small pieces of broken ceramic plates, with different designs, colors and shapes… just wondering… why those where there…
The house was on a dead end street called Privada (Means private) and I was able to play outside… I also remember some times; my uncle’s friends brought him sleeping, and left him in the front door of the house… then they walked away laughing and joking about him…
There was a kid who had a red Tricycle, and every time he played in his wheels, looked happy and smiling… I dreamed to have some day also a red tricycle… to be happy, just like the other kid… those are my oldest memories.
This history will continue… moving to a new house… new challenges, new times…
Hola primacho....
ReplyDeleteMi papá te quiere comentar;
"Yo me acuerdo de esa casa.. Era una casa muy larga tomando en cuenta la anchura del pasillo.
Y lo que mas recuerdo es tu cuarto, que era laboratorio, despacho, lugar para recibir tus visitas (ya me dijeron que amiguero siempre fuiste) dormitorio etc...
En tu desorden muy organizado con todas las características de un genio, ya en ese entonces armabas y desarmabas lo que se te pusiera en frente. Hasta mecanico particular eras.. WOw vivillo desde chiquillo!
Mi papá se quedaba asombrado de ver como aporrebas el piano, con tu amigo que tocaba el sumbido del abejorro jaja! Que realmente sonaba muy bien y hasta unas sonrisa sale de su cara cuando se acuerda!
En la platica mi papa me comento lo bravucón que era y dice que se despide de ti diciendote:
RECORDAR ES VIVIR.
TE QUIERO MUCHO