My mother was diagnosed with TB shortly after I was born. That was in 1947. In 1950 she was placed in the Maryknoll Hospital in Monrovia, California. Lonely and feeling helpless, my father sent these post cards almost every day to my mom. To the best of my ability I placed these cards in chronological order.
Xochtl is my sister, Christina. The word is Aztec meaning flower. She was twelve when I was born and during the time my mom was away she took care of me.
Temperatures in the Imperial Valley can reach 120°. On the city streets where the sunlight and the buildings reflect the heat it can get much hotter than that. This was June and it was just the beginning of it.
We had a swamp cooler to help cool the house down. People still use them to this day. My parents lived through the Great Depression. They did not run it for very long stretches of time. You know, saving the cost of electricity. We had only one fan in the house. Only my mama could use it. My brother and I shared our bed. In the summer time we only had a sheet to cover ourselves, but by morning I usually woke up with just me and my PJs.