Two stories of my ancestors

This is my aunt Herminia Pineda Posadas. She is my mother’s youngest sister. She was born and raised in El Realejo, a small town located in Guadalcazar, San Luis Potosi, Mexico.  She had a hard childhood in this town because my grandmother used to bully her with physical and emotional abuse. She became a single mother when he was fifteen years old. Nobody knows who the biological father is. She named her daughter María del Rosario Pineda Posadas.  My grandmother (Aurelia Posadas Cruz) was not happy with this issue, so the abuse continued, until Herminia felt so stressful and decided to run away from her parents’ house when she was seventeen years old (1962).  Two years later, my grandmother received a letter from Hermninia where she invited her mother to visit her in Veracruz. She also said that she was married and the name of her husband was Juan. My grandmother did not give a response and she did not go to Veracruz either. It has passed more than fifty years and my grandmother died in 1980. My mother has a strong desire to find Herminia and her daughter, but she does not know where she is living. I have tried to find her through different means (internet, TV programs or government departments) without success.

My grandmother Romula de Leon Obregón (father’s mother) lived with my family and I when I was a child. She had her own house in the same grounds near of ours. She was widow since 1950 when my grandfather (José Luciano Juan Martínez Dávila) died. She liked the fruit trees like peaches, apples, apricots, and sapota. She used to cook corn tortillas in the mornings. Sometimes my siblings and I played bingo with her, although she did not like to lose the game. Sometimes she was bad-tempered. She liked to dance a lot and she frequently used to go to parties. One day she, my mother and I went to Guadalcazar and my siblings stayed at home. They were children and they played around the house and ate all the apricots the tree had.  When we return from Guadalcazar and my grandmother saw that became so angry.  When I was almost eight years old, my family and I migrated to Nuevo Leon and my grandmother stayed in El Realejo, but she used to visit us once a year.  Years later when she got Alzheimer, she stayed with us and my mother took care of her for some years. She died in 1999 at the age of ninety-five years old.

This is a picture of our house, and my grandmother lived in a similar house.