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Abe Peña's Cíbola Beacon newspaper column

All material used with the kind permission of the author, given to me personally.

Published Tuesday, June 9, 2009 10:46 AM MDT

"Grandma Mona 1898 - 1995

"And that's that.” When Grandma Mona said, “And that's that,” that was that . . . the end. . . finito. . . it's final!

Mrs. Ramona Alarid de Cisneros, my mother-in-law, whom we called Grandma Mona, lived to age 97, and, to the very end of her busy and active life, she was the boss. At La Residencia nursing home in Santa Fe, where she spent her last days, she tapped, tapped, and tapped on the table to silence anyone that was “a bit too loud.”

She was born in Santa Fe, territory of New Mexico, on March 7, 1898. She died on June 20, 1995. She was the daughter of Doña Refugio Griego de Alarid and Alvino Alarid. There were seven in the family. Three boys and four girls.

Santiago, the oldest of the sons, married Lucia, Antonio “Tio Tone” married Librada, and Tomas married Rosa. Tomas was “gassed” in World War I in Europe and Tio Tone raised several sons who followed him as albaniles (carpenters) and builders.

Pelegrina, the oldest of the girls, married Eusebio Rodriquez; Ramona married Ignacio Cisneros; Mary married Alfredo, “Tio Fred;” and Nellie, with the beautiful blue-green eyes, married Leo Barela. The only one still alive is Tia Mary, who is nearing 100 and almost completely deaf. She is at La Residencia nursing home, which is the old St. Francis Hospital converted to a nursing home near St. Francis Cathedral in the heart of Santa Fe.

After the Rosary service at Berardnelli Mortuary the evening before her funeral, her grandchildren were asked to share their memories of their grandma. Some commented humorously about threats with “The strap. Still, we never saw the strap!” One said, between sobs, “I don't think there was a strap!” Another said, “She was tough, but I loved her. She was a doll.” And another said, “Grandma Mona was a woman ahead of her time.” And still another said, “She was very special, one of a kind.”

She certainly was ahead of her time. For example, when her husband, Ignacio Cisneros, died at age 35 in an industrial accident when a pile of lumber fell on him in Bernalillo where he was working, she rolled up her sleeves and raised her four young children by herself.

Women in the 1930s usually stayed home and took care of the home and the children while the husband worked to support the family. Jobs were hard to get during the Depression, but she took the money she got from a small life insurance policy and opened a restaurant in Bernalillo which she operated successfully for several years. Quite a feat for a woman to take care of her young family and run a business in those Depression years when there was very little money for people to spend, much less to eat out.

She was blessed by three daughters and a son. Rosenda (Rose), Refugio Faviola (Viola), Marcelina Dolores (Lena), and Roberto Edmundo (Bob). The older children attended Catholic school in Bernalillo. Viola, my wife, remembers the time she was stood in the corner by the teacher and remained there long after school was out.

Her mother came to look for her and the Sister was most contrite for forgetting her in the corner; nevertheless, her mother pulled her out and put her in the public school. She was not only a resourceful woman, but also a decisive one.

Grandma Mona was born and raised in Santa Fe and decided to sell the restaurant and return with her family to Santa Fe. She purchased the heavily-mortgaged Alarid family home, a beautiful adobe, where she was raised. After doing odd jobs for a while, she got a job as cook at St. Michael's High School. Viola, who was given to her paternal grandparents at age one and lived with them on their small farm in Bernalillo, joined the others in Santa Fe at age 13, when her grandmother Rosenda passed away.

When St. Michael's College opened its doors on the site of old Bruns General Army Hospital after the Second World War, she was hired as the chief cook and worked there until she retired in the 1960s. Many students and graduates of Saint Mike's kept in touch with her through the years. She was like a surrogate mother to many of them. Even today, they comment about fond memories of “Grandma Mona.”

I met Grandma Mona in 1952 at her home in Santa Fe. I was in the Army during the Korean War and came home to San Mateo on leave. A friend invited me to go with him to Santa Fe to visit his girlfriend who lived with the Cisneros family in their large home. . . and they could arrange for me to meet her friend Viola, a music teacher in the Santa Fe school system.

I had been driving home from Kansas City and was sleepy and asked Mrs. Cisneros if I could nap on the couch in the living room while the girls, both teachers, came home from school. I awoke to the soft music of Granada being played on a baby grand at the other end of the living room. An attractive girl was playing the piano. I could not see her face, but, when she finished the number, I quietly applauded and she turned around, smiling. . . I have been applauding since!

We were married in 1955 at Saint Francis Cathedral in Santa Fe. Grandma Mona was there, and so were Rose with her husband Severo Martinez, Lena with her husband Bob Sweeney, and Bobby, who was single, walked the bride down the aisle and gave her away. Although I was in a cloud, they tell me the Cathedral was full. . . family and friends from both sides.

Grandma Mona outlived most of her contemporaries and had 14 grandchildren and 16 great-grandchildren. She loved every one of them, but she was a little concerned every time she was told she was going to be a grandma. Since she had raised her four children alone, she must have worried about similar experiences by her children and grandchildren.

Grandma Mona was buried at Rosario Cemetery, adjacent to the National Cemetery in Santa Fe, near some tall trees that rivaled her in age."