Looking for gravestones

Cathedrals.  Ayuntamientos.  Culture shock.  Differences in food, clothing and a way of life.  Juzgado, the place that houses books;  so old one wants to reach out and touch the pages, run one’s fingers across the beautiful writing to find the names and dates there. We now sit in Merida, mid-way between Fuentesauco and Seville.  Then, the cementarios / cemeteries.

Saturday morning, we began our “cemetery” day in Toro where we hoped to find a “Marzo” or a “Trascasas”.   

On our way into Cementario place, we saw wide sidewalks from the city all the way to the cemetery and women in dresses walking along the lengths --- to and from the cemetery gates.  Benches were placed along the way for resting and several enjoyed the respite.  Once inside the entryway to the cemetery, we found many names, none of which belonged to our family.  Stones higher than my head, smoother than silk and most made of marble.  Flat, curved, mounded and covered with flowers, urns and etched with names, dates, family and D.E.P. = Descansa en paz. (in America it would read R.I.P.)  After taking several photos, Steven found the poor section…no names, rigid crosses stuck in the rocky soil among weeds and broken glass in places.  Drawn to that area, we knew it probably housed our families… We picked up rocks from the area.  It was the best we could do and we will bring them home.

We were hesitant to lose our perfect parking spot near Santa Maria Cathedral near the plaza mayor and our hotel, but it was cemetery day…  We drove toward Fuentesauco, the village of the Silvan and Hernandez Martin families, knowing three villages waited.

Five miles east of Fuentesauco likes Villaescusa.  Angel SILVAN Martin was born and was probably buried in this village.  He was Celestino SILVAN Alejo’s father.  (Celestino was father to Victorino, Juan and Cristencia Silvan).  ALSO born there was Margarita MARTIN Rodriguez and we can only assume she was also buried there.  She was mother to Agustina Hernandez Martin.  Agustina was mother to Victorino, Juan and Cristencia.  We found the cemetery easily once we drove into the village because it appeared as most cemeteries do in these villages: following a tree-lined lane from the church to the outskirts of the village.  The doors were locked but I found a way in (don’t ask).  It was small and again, no Silvan or Martin could be found.  We couldn’t even find the poor section within the stone wall that surrounded the shrines and it was in such disrepair… As we picked our way out, locked the gates and stepped along the chapel’s entrance, there was an ancient tree (long dead) with a board-covered paper encased in plastic with a poem.  Steven translated it for me and we both agreed the area and the tree had once been touched with love.

Back to Fuentesauco through the village straight to the other side, 6 miles found Villamor de los Escuderos – this village was just a mite larger than Villasescusa and felt friendly the minute we arrived.  We found the old church and our car found the cemetery… Another locked gate and within minutes we were within the stone walls.  Steven and I wanted to find the stone for Miguel HERNANDEZ Hernandez.  He was the father to Agustina Hernandez Martin, mother to Victorino, Juan and Cristencia.  This is the village where bisabuela Agustina was born.  More photos of more graves and beautiful sacred moments but no stone could be found again.

Time to settle into Fuentesauco; we saved the major village for last as we felt the tug of Silvan blood lead us along.  I was quaking a bit as I stepped out of the car, camera in hand and we walked through the small doorway leading us within.  It was large and the walkway slanted upward, as if it was built on a hill and surrounded by stone walls on three sides.  Daunted, I reminded Steven of the names we were looking for --- SILVAN, Alejo, Hernandez, Martin, Hidalgo and Gonzales.  We chose one side and I the other.  The sun was hot and so were we by then…  Our eyes strained to read every single gravestone, some tightly wedged so close that we couldn’t fit our foot between them.  Walking, stooping, reading the etchings against the glaring sun and snapping photos of names that sounded familiar (Zamorano, Alonso, Martin) and we trudged on.

My heart thudded when I found FAMILIA OF HERNANDEZ MARTIN.  This, I knew was bisabuela Agustina Silvan and her family.  We believe (Vicki, Lynda and Julie and I) this Martin family linked us because Agustina Hernandez Martin may have been directly related to Ramona Martin.  (There are also Martins in the Ruiz family so don’t get these confused with the other Martin cousins).  The gravestone was simple and so touching, I felt tears.  I snapped photos until my finger hurt…. And only on our way out of the cemetery, did a man see my camera and remind me not to take photos…  We found more rocks to take away with us and held our camera close and ran for the car…