Doña Martha

Growing up in Golondrinas, I didn't have a lot of neighbors. There aren't a lot of families that live there, and the families that do live there are separated by some distance. Our nearest neighbors, Doña Martha and Don Jake, lived almost half a mile away - half a mile, if you jumped a couple of fences and cut across the fields from one house to the other.

As a kid, I jumped those fences and crossed those fields to get to their house lots of times. Usually, it was to run an errand for my mom - either to drop off or pick up something. But sometimes, it was just for fun. At Halloween, I was guaranteed an entire grocery bag full of treats. In the fall, my mom and I would meet Doña Martha to pick piñon. Regardless of the reason that I found myself at their house, a couple of things were certain of my visit. I would have a snack and some conversation.

Even though I was just a kid, Doña Martha never treated me as one. She would pour me something to drink (coffee, mind blowingly sweet tea or juice) and serve a slice of whatever she had recently baked. Then, we would talk. We spoke in Spanish. Usually, we talked about the latest happenings in the news. Politics were a popular subject. Doña Martha loved to keep tabs on the Kennedy family. Other times, we stuck to local topics - who was getting married, who was sick. All of this was done with her kitchen wood stove burning and Don Jake sitting quietly in a chair next to the stove. Doña Martha didn't allow him to take part in our conversations, and he knew better than to argue with her.

While I was away at college, they moved, reluctantly, to an apartment in Albuquerque. They were getting older and their kids wanted to have them closer. Don Jake passed away probably close to ten years ago.

This morning, I got a call from my mom. Doña Martha passed away today. She was 97. I know she still missed her life and her house in Golondrinas. I just hope she knew how much I enjoyed her conversation and her pies.


A glimpse of Golondrinas.