Cynthia Dolores Reyna

Simon came from King Ranch in Kingsville, TX to work on a ranch Los Indios, TX. where Juanita’s dad, Dionicio Ramos, was the foreman. She immediately had a crush on him.

Simon left her a note to meet him in town so Juanita and her sister Lupe took the bus into Harlingen and rest is history.

Simon asked Dionicio if it was alright to talk to her. He could, but not without a chaperone. Simon was hired in September and married Juanita by November. We can only imagine what those 2 months of young love must have been like in the small town of Los Indios, 1956.

Following the crop with hope for a better life, they made their way to the Midwest. First in Morrison, IL and eventually landing in Rock Island, IL their permanent home. 910 24th street to be exact.

The large 2 story home on a dead end street was a dream come true. Cynthia recalled asking her dad which room they’d be living in because they grew up in the Arsenal Courts, just a few miles down (featured on the profile pic). He reassured her that the entire house was all theirs. The home stayed in the family until Juanita passed.

Together they had 6 children, Sylvia, Cynthia, Dora and twins Hector & Leticia. Hector was born with Ectodermal Dysplasia and sadly their son Salvador passed shortly after birth. Hector was the spoiled 1 and rightfully so as the only boy in the family.

As life continued for the couple they opened their home to numerous relatives near and far. My mom always spoke so fondly of those days where she was surrounded by her cousins. Echoes of the men drinking, women gossiping, music playing, even Simon on the guitar, homemade Mexican food and kids running around. It was the early 70’s and life was good. Whether it was The Spinners or Connie Francis on the 45, Soul Train playing in the background, my Mom was ready to embrace all the new fashion and dance trends. Hip huggers and peasant tops, long and straight brown hair, big beautiful brown eyes, porcelain complexion and an attitude from another world, she was a force to be reckoned with.

Juanita and Simon begrudgingly became grandparents in 1975 & 1976 to Giovanni and Jorge, 2 beautiful baby boys. Both of their daughters now married, because in those times, that’s what you did. The shame of being a teen mom easing, life was certain to turnaround as the family started to grow.

But Juanita and Simon’s love story was cut short when he had a massive heart attack at the young age of 48. Simon passed away weeks later at the RI Hospital, leaving his young wife and family behind.

His death had an everlasting impact on my Mom, especially because she was his favorite, and she’d say that proudly. “I used to cook for my dad and he always knew when it was me”. He was always her safe place. Pictures show how he used to look at her, even as a baby the sheer beauty of a father’s admiration is reflected.

Since she was a little girl, she’d recall how much her dad loved her. The time he walked across Centennial to join her class for a field trip at John O’Donell because he didn’t drive or how he’d take a bus to Moline and sneak her money once she was married. Even showing up on her wedding day with a ring because he didn’t want her to marry without 1.

After his death, Cynthia moved to Sun Valley, California with her husband Jorge to start anew. Their daughter Cristina was born shortly after in 1978. Mom loved talking about her times in CA as a young woman in the late 70’s and early 80’s. Can you imagine?

Mom used to say if it’s not 1 thing it’s another. Life trials and tribulations brought Cynthia back to IL, single with 2 young children. But nothing could stop her, Cynthia worked where she could and settled for a job at Louis Rich in West Liberty, IA.

Tears always filled her eyes when she reminisced about those struggling times. Her small apartment with a box for a table and her 2 young children. Her father was her rock, and without him the support was limited. Later in life these circumstances shaped Cynthia’s love for any and all home related goods.

As the family continued to grow, her siblings all having children of their own, Juanita and Simon now had 14 grandchildren, eventually 15 due to a surprise from my Uncle Hector in 2006.

As years passed, family memories were created with birthdays, holidays and cook outs at Black Hawk State Park. The home on 24th street became our epicenter of love and everything that was good in this world. Our gathering place, the only home we will ever truly feel peace.

Cynthia eventually remarried and then divorced and in the midst of it all, she brought me (Gabi) into the world, summer of 1987. While it wasn’t the best of times, my mother’s love for her children was everlasting.

On May 11, 2005, Juanita passed away from long standing health issues. The beautiful thing is that the night she passed, there was an incredible storm in the area. Every single 1 of her children and grandchildren were awaken by the tunder (For some reason that’s how she always said it to me). We all share memories of feeling a jolt.

The following year, Cynthia’s 1st born son, Jorge passed on her birthday and ever since we no longer celebrated that day.

While she was still here, there was forever an emptiness that would never go away. A look in her eyes, the shake of her head and the redness in her face, I always knew when she was thinking about her boy. Her little soldier boy.

Throughout her life she went on vacations to CA, FL and TX, owned the West End Club in Moline during the early 90’s in the Floreciente neighborhood and loved to host and entertain, Mom could work a room and gave her children the gift of gab.

I asked all the time as she was hit with health struggles later in life. “Did you have fun, Mom?” And she’d always reply with “hell yeah!”

“Life’s a bitch, then you die” is something she told us often. Cynthia had a sharp tongue that got her in trouble as a kid and well into her last days. But it’s the sincerity in her words that let us ignore the tone. The harsh truth we never wanted to accept as kids but understood to our core as adults.

If Cynthia didn’t like something she’d say it. Those wide eyes spoke volumes. Hidden between the blurred lines of her criticism, was a loving Mom who just wanted her kids to survive in a world without her. She wanted to make sure we had it all and knew how to do it all. We see that now, Mom, I promise you we do.

A loud “f**k you” resonates deep within us, ready to fire at any time. She taught us to embrace those words that so many are offended by. “They’re just words, I may not be educated but I’m street smart, so watch out girl!”

She made sure her kids grew up knowing different movie & music genres. Imitation of Life was her absolute favorite. From Motown to Tejano music, dancing the hustle or doing the bump, Cynthia embraced it all.

If you learn anything about her story, it’s to always be who you are, if others don’t like it “Que se vayan a la chingada” is what she would say. Ask the hard questions and if you think something needs to be said, say it. Give when you can, love when you should and never forget where you came from.

My Mom’s life was filled with sweet memories of making sure we always had the best of Christmas’ and birthdays, whipping up a meal for anyone just to hear them rave about how delicious it was. The 1st to get up and dance, ready to strike up a conversation with a stranger and share a story that had you wanting more, a damn good saleswoman and and 1 hell of a fighter. Our ending doesn’t matter, it’s how we lived. And damnit did she live.

“Ready boots?”