My significant mother – always a Taoseña
You can take the woman out of Taos, but you can’t take Taos out of the woman. At least that was the case with my Mother, Mabel Grant Torres, who passed away on Aug. 31, 2020, at age 90.
In 1955, my Mother married my Father, Julian Torres of Llano Quemado. That year, she left her home in La Cordillera for Redondo Beach, California, but she always dreamed of moving back and was always a Taoseña at heart. She was muy simpática. She had a quick smile which wasn’t so common in Southern California. I think her warmth was influenced by where she was raised. As a kid, I remember riding with her on small Taos roads. Drivers passing in the opposite direction often gestured hello by simply lifting four fingers off the steering wheel. After my Mom waved back in kind I’d ask, “Who was that?” Mostly, she didn’t know. She said folks were just
friendly that way.
My Mom was the second of five children born to Edward and Elva (Morgas) Grant. The date of her birth was July 15, 1930. She grew up in an adobe house that was adorned with gladiolas in the summer and farolitos in the winter. I loved hearing stories of her childhood. Like how she used to ride their horse, bareback, to the post office to pick up the mail. It delighted me to think of my Mom ever being that young and adventurous. Having a horse on their farm sounded pretty wonderful. However, as a child she didn’t have some simple things that I took for granted, such as store-bought candies. Those were luxuries for special occasions.
Reading, writing and arithmetic were important to the Grants. So much so that during the winter my Grandmother would move with her children to be closer to their school while my Grandfather stayed to take care of their farm. My Mom tried to instill the importance of education to the next generation through books. When I was young, she’d buy me Little Golden Books every Friday when we’d go grocery shopping (as well as some store-bought candy). As an adult, I watched her read to Ronnie Escalera, the son of my sister, Julie, and then a few years later to my own daughter, Channing. I once asked my Mom if her parents read children’s books to them when they were little. They were read to from the only book the family owned: The Bible.
On the day my Mother passed – peacefully at home, surrounded by her family – Heaven welcomed its newest angel. Here in our world, her ashes were scattered, in a manner of speaking. Some will forever be with her daughters, contained in silver cross necklaces, and some will remain in Redondo Beach. There was just one last destination before My Mother’s journey on Earth would come to an end. That destination was El Descanso, the Presbyterian cemetery in Talpa where she was laid to rest near Margie Hammer, Angelina Martinez and Edward Grant: her siblings who had passed before her. That was my Mother’s wish and it was fulfilled on November 11th.
Because of COVID-19 the service was small, attended by Mom’s only surviving sibling, Clarence Grant; her closest niece, Naomi Grant; my husband, Don; and me. It was a beautiful, bright and brisk day when she was buried right next to her parents. We read scripture, sang Amazing Grace and said our goodbyes. With my Mother’s urn, I put photos of our family and of the painting of Jesus that hung next to her bed. I included a note thanking her for loving us and for being the best – the most significant – parts of us. I told her we’d someday be reunited in Heaven.
I felt closure through my grief that day. I want to believe my Mother is watching over us and sending us comforting signs. Like how she passed away exactly a year to the day after her beloved brother Eddie. That felt like she was telling us he had come to take her to join their family. Another sign happened as her grave was being filled. Naomi noticed a heart-shaped rock in the last bit of loose dirt. I’m convinced it was a sign of my Mother’s undying love and her way of saying thank you for bringing her to the place she wanted to be. This sweet Taoseña had come home.