Excerpts from my written memoir:
I was born on a kitchen table in Mexico. My mother was alone and taking care of her sister who was also giving birth. Her sister was left for dead after giving birth to my cousin. They stapled her up knowing it wasn’t worth the crude staples. My mother was keeping her sister alive and taking her by bus to the clinics and pharmacies. She survived. They were both married into polygamy. Each was 1 of many wives to their husbands. The men weren’t there.
The mothers are dead now. My aunt tragically electrocuted trying to save her son who was in water that had high voltage power lines running to it. My cousin just released her book and a few other distant non-relatives have written books on the history of my parent’s world. I’ve been able to ignore them all until now. That was my cousin’s mother that was left for dead giving birth. I think 1 of the polygamy fathers, her husband, powered the fence to keep horses in? Too many tragedies. Way too many. The cousin’s father was murdered by his brother years ago when we were kids. My mother died from cancer while she was keeping my younger sister comforted while she was dying from breast cancer. My mother, her sister and my sister were all sweet, nurturing, strong women. They were also entangled in a cult and disillusioned by the power of brainwashing.
• 5 wives and 27 kids.
My father was on the low end of wives and children. I really didn’t know the other families. If we met, It was rare. He abandoned his first family.———————-