Ernestina died the day after her eightieth birthday, after being bedridden for two and a half years in her home, as the result of a stroke that incapacitated her. Her two daughters and a night nurse cared for her until her savings were exhausted, and her house had to be sold to continue her care. Her physician recommended a small six patient nursing home, but she was there only one month when she died from another stroke. The hub that held the spokes of the family wheel together was laid to rest in the country cemetery behind the church next to her husband and near her youngest daughter.
Ernestina, as she was known to her American friends, was known as Mama to her six children, Ernestina to her sister, Tia to her nieces and nephews and Mrs. Foster to her neighbors and acquaintances. She was always Nana to me.
I was her only granddaughter, until her daughter Rose, and her husband Norvell adopted Arlene, and her youngest son Manuel and his wife Aileen had Patricia.