Remembering you

This photo was taken of us around 1965- it looks like you are around 5 or six years old here.
Abuelita had high hopes to see you before she passed, so did Abuelito. They kept giving mom birthday cards for you on Christmas Eve every single year. She still has them to this day. I guess it was a manner in which our grandparents could keep your memory alive and doing this just proved that they believed in your return, as well. Now that they are gone, physically from earth, I truly believe they are watching over you from heaven above. Their love for you never relinquished. Just knowing that is enough said.

On our mom's birthday today

Our mom turns 74 years old today, February 18th. If you can remember, she has two birthdays, this one being her real birthday and on September 18 because that is the date they registered her in Allende, Coahuila, Mexico.  We are lucky she has no health problems, thank God, just that she is going to have surgery on her cataracts. The one thing that has worried me is after so many years of living alone, she has made resolutions to her circumstances on her own and in her own way. The one thing that has helped her along the way of living as a mother with her only son missing, is her faith in God. As a matter of fact, she is at church right now and is staying for a charismatic meeting after mass. I am thankful for her strong and undeniable faith in God and I am thankful she has modeled that to both of us, since we were children, she has been very stern about her faith. I hope that where ever you may be, that you will think about our mom and say a prayer for her because all these years she has wondered if you have ever told anyone where you come from, who your mother is and where she is from and so forth. She is a model of faith to me and will remain for as long as I live and I hope she means the same to you.
Feliz cumple años, mamá.

Another note from Tio Raul

Cindy,
  Shortly after Junior's disappearance your Dad and I took several trips to the coast looking for him or looking for anything about his whereabouts.  We visited an Aunt of his (coastal town??) that scolded your Dad because she hadn't seen any of your Dad's family in a long time.  We also saw a nephew of his in Houston maybe Rene..not sure.  We camped out on a corner store's parking lot one time and the clerk called the cops on us. 
  Another time found us in the middle of evening beach festivities (didn't have a brew..I wanted one) we just looked and looked through the crowds.  Later that night we were cruising at highway speed and we took out a beautiful German Shepherd lying in the middle of our road.
  We showed Junior's picture and talked to many people in all those little towns looking for any shred of news or information.  I think we scared some folks in the process..some told us things we wanted to hear just to get rid of us.

Tio

The little pink tennis outfit

I don't know if you remember how much we use to go play tennis at Woodlawn Park but I know I liked it very much. As a matter of fact, Dad use to play tennis with us a lot and I remember how one time I hit that tennis ball so hard that I sent my racquet flying across the net, too. It was so funny. Dad and I busted out in laughter that we just couldn't stop laughing. I can see that racquet flying really, really high and away and thinking to myself, "I shouldn't have done that!". Dad saw how much I enjoyed playing with him that he signed me up for tennis lessons at San Pedro Park. My first class was scheduled for June 29, 1975, that same Saturday that you disappeared from the Ayala family. Right before we left for Matagorda Beach after the phone call, I folded the little pink tennis outfit I was supposed to wear to my first tennis lesson and placed it in my dresser drawer. Seeing it just brought back the saddest memory for me.
This wasn't the only thing I withdrew from after you disappeared but also the guitar lessons, the piano lessons, the flute lessons and the clarinet lessons. It was as if the music died in me the day you became missing.
A few years ago, when I picked up the guitar to play at the church where I was teaching, I became overwhelmed because the music we were playing was from the '70's and it was music you and I use to sing to when we attended mass at Little Flower Church where we attended school.

Life after your disappearance

It was very difficult to face reality after your disappearance. Dad was very adamant about finding you. Since the private investigator did not work out, he pretty much took things into his own hands. I remember him leaving the house and not knowing where and how long he would be but he was very deep in his own thoughts. I did find out that the Ayala's reported dad to the authorities because he would park at San Pedro park, across from the Ayala's house, and just kept an eye on them. Dad was very suspicious of them because as it was they had told us that they planned on going to Corpus Christi, not to Matagorda Beach. Why they made a change without letting us know still does not make sense. If you are holding yourself responsible for another child's life, then it is just logical to make those parents aware of any deviation from the original plans.
Dad spent so much time looking for you that, one day, when he was making his rounds around Brackenridge Park, another driver hit dad from the back in his black and white Ford. This accident caused him whip lash and it made his job as a map maker, difficult. He was not able to bend his neck easily in order to look into that machine to draw those maps at Fort Sam.
Dad applied for a medical disability and he was not given a full disability. He had to do something with his time and so he went into business for himself. We rented an old store with the house in back of it in the West side of San Antonio. I'll ask mom the name of the street and edit this soon. But it was pretty neat and I saw dad getting himself involved in a project that kept him busy. Originally he had wanted to buy the place over on Bandera and Woodlawn and make a Laundry mat store but that did not pan out. So dad took over this little store and I remember we sold candies and old furniture. Dad would restore these old, antique chairs and sell them. I remember there was a refrigerator for meats and even an electric meat trimmer. He did use it once to trim a brisket. I still remember to this day how he did it. I also recall how he was redoing the little house in back. The entire floor was taken out and I remember walking through the dirt inside the house. Dad had a lot to do now and it kept him busy.
Dad also started his own franchise of a candy company through Tio Ramiro's candy store from Reynosa, México but here we called it RoMar for Rogelio and Marina, and we had all the recipe's to make Tio's candy. I am not sure if this occurred before we had the furniture store or after. We rented a place next door to Tio Pilo's little store and that was our 'fabrica' where we made the candy and packaged it and then dad would go out and sell it to little stores. I would help mom mix the ingredients together in large plastic bowls and help her package the end product into bags or into little plastic cups. Dad taught me to use the sealer machine that would melt the plastic of the packs. I would also go with dad downtown to buy the boxes, the little Daisy cups, the rubber bands, the labels for the boxes with the company's name printed on it. It was fun and I learned a lot doing that.
Just recently, I went with my friend to buy some apples downtown (my husband and I made candy apples for our daughter's debate club) and the store we went to was right across the street from where I went with dad to buy the boxes. I was so overwhelmed when I saw that place that I even dropped my purse because I could see this 12 year old little girl walking into that place with her dad and it has been 36 years ago. The chills of that thought/image must have made me drop my purse.
What to do after you left was an overwhelming task. Now that dad did not have his job with the civil service just made things worse and that is when he became depressed. These projects he attempted just were not replacing you and it did not work for very long.

R.I.P.

Here is a list of our family members who have passed on.

Our Tia 'Mine' just passed Nov. 8, 2012. Olga Minerva Cerda Diaz, dad's sister May she rest in peace
Rogelio Escamilla Cerda- March 24, 1977
Abuelita Julia Escamilla Cerda- dad's mom
Tio (Mono) Edmundo Escamilla Cerda- dad's brother
Tio (Chencho) Cresencio Escamilla Cerda- dad's brother
Tia (Tencha) Hortencia Cerda Stephens (Uncle Albert's wife, divorced Uncle Albert and remarried)- dad's sister-in-law
'Tio' (actually mom's cousin's husband)  Ramiro Gonzalez- the owner of RaGo candy from Reynosa, México
Tio Benjamin Realme Sr., Allende Coahuila, México- mom's uncle
Tio Benjamin Realme Jr., Allende Coahuila, México- mom's cousin
Uncle Jesse Diaz Sr.- dad's brother-in-law
Robert De La Fuente- our cousin, Tia Chita's son
Ismael De La Fuente (aka Smiley)- our cousin, Tia Chita's son
Adam Rodriguez- our cousin, Tia Nancy's son
Tio Pilo and Tia Beatrice Cerda Niño- dad's brother-in-law and sister- Tio Pilo use to have a little store
Vangie Niño-our cousin and Tia Bea's daughter
Rene Niño-our cousin and Tia Bea's son
Uncle Sam (Severo) Cerda- dad's brother
Abuelito Miguel Lopez Realme- mom's dad
Abuelita Herminia Felan Realme- mom's mom
Uncle Ross (Rosendo) Esparza- mom's brother-in-law

These family members were all mystified by your disappearance and also had the hope of seeing you once again.

The day has arrived

Dear Junior,
This 24th of December marks your 52nd birthday. We have missed 36 years worth of celebrating your birthday. I just talked to mom and you don't understand how strong of a woman she has become. She hides so much from me as I do from her. We didn't even mention your name this morning only because we understand each other and she knows that I am writing this and we have you in our minds all the time.
It would be so easy, in any given moment, to break down and pour our emotions out like there was no tomorrow- like there was no more hope but that's just it- we don't do that because we hang on to that thread of hope- the hope of your return to us one day.
Yes, much has happened, good and bad, since you disappeared from our lives and I have not yet decided to get this across but once I figure how I will write it, you will know.
I assume that maybe one detail that has kept you from returning back home to us is the fact that dad is no longer with us and that his death, a most tragic one cannot comprehend, may be all the reason you have decided not to come back.
It's never too late for new beginnings.
It's never too late to give hope a chance.
Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas, wherever you are.
With love,
your little sister,
Cindy