![]() It seemed impossible to experience this momentous event without her mother to share it. ![]() MORALES: Just three months after Maria Cristina died, Carmen had her baby. And mariachis traveled throughout the state to play for her. And we ended up having a funeral for her. PARRA CANO: She would always tell us, when I die, don't cry - just have a big party. On the day she was heading to the doctor, she fell, hit her head and died. MORALES: Two years later, when Carmen was pregnant with her second child, Maria Cristina was having dizzy spells. PARRA CANO: I don't know how my mom did it, but each of us felt - like, she would make time for each of us. This is how Maria Cristina cared for her nine kids. MORALES: When it came time for Carmen to have her first baby, her mom stayed by her side - to listen, to tell stories and to cook her comfort foods, family recipes like quinoa con leche and a hot cinnamon drink called atolli. MARIA DEL CARMEN PARRA CANO: She would just be like, OK, sana, sana. Carmen's mom, Maria Cristina, was so busy, she'd just shorten it. If you don't heal today, you'll heal tomorrow. ![]() LAUREL MORALES, BYLINE: In Latin America, when a child scrapes a knee and comes running, it's common to hear a mother say, sana, sana. Reporter Laurel Morales has the story of a young woman who's found a way to keep the memory of her mother alive. While growing up in Phoenix, Maria del Carmen Parra Cano watched her mother feed her own family and all the children who'd stop by. On this Mother's Day weekend, a recipe of sorts, passed down for generations. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |