My mom, Maria Mirtala Galdámez (Zamora) was born in El Salvador, in the city of Chalatenango in 1928, one year before the Great Depression. In was a rural town back then that I have never visited. This town is where the surname Galdámez surged. Her last name is Basque in the form of “galdames” which is from the Northern region of Spain and is originally spelled Galdames but was changed to sound more Castillian to “Galdámez”. The name means “iron cauldron” in Euskara (Basque). How the Basque “Galdames” made it to El Salvador is hard to trace.
Her mother was Estebana Zamora and her father was Genaro Galdámez. They had eight children, I believe, six girls (who all had “Maria” as their first name) and two boys. Of them, only my youngest uncle is left.
My mom and her older brother who died in 2017 |
My mom, for the most part, was a single mom. She worked up until we came to the United States. She worked in the meat market (at the municipal market) of Mejicanos, a city close to where I remember living. She sold meat there and because of this, I remember never lacking meat nor anything to eat.
We lived in rural place called Mariona and there lived in a one room house made of wood planks that had gap in between which allowed others to see inside, uneven dirt floors and roof made of aluminum. She slept on the floor with my youngest sister which she continued to do for many years even when we were in the United States.
Living in a tropical place, thunderstorms were common and the sound it made on the roof made it even scarier (not to say the dripping around the house due to the holes on the roof) and my mom would often scare us even more by saying, “¡Gran poder de Dios!” (Great Power of God). For a while, we lacked electricity and remember the dark nights using portable gas lamps.
I don’t remember much of my childhood in relation to my mom, but there are a few. One occasion that I will never forget is when my friends and I decided to go to the river and shower. On our way back, being a stubborn boy, I refused to go the same way back home with my friends and got lost. When my mom arrived home from work she asked about me and was told what had happened. She left everything and immediately went and looked for me. Upon asking, someone told her they had a seen a little boy without a shirt holding a can, eating an ice cream and walking with a woman. She found me. I am so glad she did or I would be part of another family. Another occasion that I remember was when my friends and I decided to go explore, as it is so common in rural places. Walking in canyons was something I enjoyed. I loved exploring and on this occasion, I stepped on what appear solid ground. It was actually a whole that was covered with wood plank. I fell and broke my arm. Again, I remember my mom arriving from work and taking me to the hospital. These two events show my mom’s absolute care for me.
My mom and myself November 2014 |
My little girl with my mom |
There are three characteristics that stand out in my mom. One is that she was a selfless giver who had no desire to have money or possessions. As I am told by my sisters, my mom had opportunities to make money but she had no interest in it. She used it to help others. She helped many people and she never did it out of interest for her. Even to her last days, she cared nothing about money or possessions. In fact, when she got new clothes, she used the old ones and saved the new ones. I remember when we were already in the US, I would ask my mom money when I needed something and she would say, “¡Go get it!” She didn’t care about what I got. Of course I only got what I needed. My mom loved to cook and I miss it. I loved her food and so did many of my relatives who often came to visit her. My mom has always be a selfless giver. In this area, I don’t come close to her. I am still learning. It is no surprise to those of us who know Christ, that a characteristic of God’s love is giving. He gave His only son to save us from our sins. This is nothing we deserve, it is the nature of God. I am thankful to God who has shown me generosity through my mom.
My mom also never kept any grudges or bitterness toward anyone. She was a forgiving person. She always had a very tough personality, and often used very harsh words but she was never the type that didn’t forgive others. I could list all the things people have done to her, that I know of, and how she just brushed them away. Her compassion dominated her life. Once again, we know that God is a forgiving God. When he forgives our sins, the does it completely. He releases us from our guilt through the Cross of Christ. My mom learned this well. My father left us when we were very young, but my mom never resented him. She always told us he was our father and we needed to see him. I was able to learn this from her as well.
My mom and four of us |
Care and concern for others before herself is another quality my mom had. She always cared about people (and not things). My mom cared so much about others that it literally consumed her thoughts. She thought about them over and over. This didn’t help her in her old age but never-the-less I know she cared. I often wish I could get in her mind and help her out of it. Ironically, as it happens with those who care for others, they are often forgotten. When my mom was in good health and older, she had droves of people show up to her house on weekends to enjoy her meals and company. When she got older and sick very few relatives visited her. My mom never really loved herself more than others. She loved others and many times would give what was meant for her to others. Once again, we know that a mark of a Christian is of giving selflessly. In fact, the Bible says that if we say we are Christians and see someone in need but don’t help, the love of God is not in us. We are called to love others as we love ourselves, to care for those in need in tangible ways not just in words. That is my mom!
My wife kissing my mom |
My mother, three of my sisters and myself came to the United States in 1981. We lived in Los Angeles for a year before settling in Santa Ana California in 1983. It was in Santa Ana, where we started attending a Spanish Baptist Church. There, myself and two of younger sisters came to know Christ. My mom initially started coming to church and then dropped off. Eventually, the Lord moved in her heart and came to know him. She was also baptized. Her life change was evident but her growth spiritually was not as fast. When I became a church planter, she also attended there. Eventually, as she got older attending church was difficult for her. For the last ten years or so, she lived in assisted living and her health declined.
in your presence there is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore. (ESV)
to re-post or reproduce without editing the content.Disclaimer:
The contents of all personal web pages and blogs published are solely my responsibility.
Statements made and opinions expressed on personal pages are strictly those of the author and not of any organization, church, or school.