All About My Mother

All about my mother Three daughters, two countries, one life, no regrets.

SHE WAS AS THEY SAY in the Mexican border city of Matamoros, del rancho, from one of the scrappy ranches on the outskirts of town, which should have meant she was so shy she wouldn’t even eat in front of strangers. But the boys she met at the dances in the city were always surprised to learn that she had been raised on a ranch, because she wore the most fashionably daring clothes and liked to converse and go to the movies.

He was 23. He didn’t know too much about her, only that he wanted to dance with her that night. You see, he was from a ranch too, but from a real one farther down the same road, where agriculture had paid off in big wads of cash that were traded for gaudy furniture. Although they had attended the same elementary school, their backgrounds had set them worlds apart. It wasn’t until he was a young man with a trim mustache that he would watch her across the aisle of the bus from town. He was so smitten with her that when she got off, he would take the spot where she had sat, just to feel what was left of her. Sometimes, when he drove by Rancho

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