Henrietta Sandoval died June 15, 2004. Henrietta is survived by her loving daughters; Rose Sandoval; Irma Valverdes, Liz Sandoval; Barbara Larcom; Maria Sandoval/Galen; Susan Herbert; Romie Johnson, Loving Sons Robert Sandoval; Rudy Sandoval; David Sandoval; Victor Sandoval. Loving Sister Jessie Franquera; Bertha Tostado; Loving Brothers Hector Venega and Martin Venegas. Henrietta is also survived by 27 grandchildren; 52 great grandchildren and great great grandchildren.

Our Mother Sleeping

She was always the first one up in the morning And the last one in bed at night; Would we ever get to see Our Mother sleeping?

She started the day with strong, fresh brewed coffee And a secret look through closed bedroom doors At sleepy heads, seven girls and four boys, And made the brown sack lunches and the last minute brush through tangled hair As they scramble out the front door to school.

She was always the first one up in the morning And the last one in bed at night; Would we ever get to see Our Mother sleeping?

Now in the house alone with a baby to suckle and a sock to mend, She shuns rest; a quick nap is not on her schedule, She knows there’s a yerba buena plant that needs tending, And a dandelion that needs pulling.

Early evening, hungry mouths sit at the table As she dishes up enchiladas, rice and beans. She watches from a distance, wipes her forehead dry And rings her hands in her apron.

She was always the first one up in the morning And the last one in bed at night; Would we ever get to see Our Mother sleeping?

And now at dusk and her earthly work done, We, the eleven and a hundred fold, Take a secret look through a closed door, A thin vale that separates time from eternity And see our Mother sleeping. Our Mother sleeping.

Victor Sandoval