BY FRANCISCO GUAJARDO
Graciela and Tomás Treviño were the epitome of a love story.
Cynthia Martínez, the first of Graciela and Tomás’ children and the person who bore closest witness to their lives, describes their story.
“My mom and dad just showed so much love for each other,” Cynthia said. “They followed each other everywhere.”
Graciela was born in Laredo on Oct. 22, 1960 — the same year Tomás was born in Nuevo Laredo. After Tomás’ family moved to Laredo, both Graciela and Tomás grew up across the street from each other, fell madly in love as teenagers, and then loved each other until COVID-19 took them.
Cynthia narrates the times her parents showed great devotion to each other.
“When my father wanted to go to Bible College, my mom was there to support him. When he built his own church, my mom was there for him,” Cynthia said. “Fifteen years ago, my mom got sick and went into a coma. The doctors felt the only way to save her was to amputate her arms and legs, and they did. She was only 45.”
Tomás was there to feed her, take her to the bathroom, and provide steadfast love and support.
“For 15 years, he never, ever left her side,” Cynthia said. “They loved each other until the end.”
Beyond the love that suffused the family, humor boosted their resiliency.
“In an endearing way, I used to call my mom my gingerbread, because she didn’t have her complete arms or legs,” Cynthia said. “She always laughed with me when I called her that.”
The humor would halt, when both parents contracted the virus.
“Dad was heartbroken when mom died,” said Cynthia. “I think my father got COVID from my mother, because she was the only person he was with before he contracted the virus.”
Tomás experienced severe symptoms.
“We had him on an oxygen machine, but then the hurricane [Hurricane Hanna] hit,” Cynthia recalls. “We lost power and the generator wasn’t strong enough to keep my dad’s oxygen levels high enough, and he got worse. We took him to the hospital, and that was the last time we saw him. He stayed there for a month and died on Aug. 30.”
After the death of her father, Cynthia and the family were determined to keep the church their father founded open.
“Since my parents died, we’ve been trying to keep the church going, but we miss my parents because they made everything go,” Cynthia said. “People from the church especially miss my dad’s big hugs. They say, ‘We don’t get the big hugs like Hermano Tomás used to give.’”
Cynthia describes COVID-19 as a threat to her entire family.
“My husband, my brother, my sister, my father, my mom, my uncle, and eight other relatives have gotten the virus,” Cynthia said. “We all take precautions, but when families live together, what can you do? Even when you try your best to protect yourself…”
In the midst of this family tragedy, Cynthia poignantly describes the triumph of the human spirit. Her 8-year-old daughter Zoe told her mom that she wants to “talk about mama and papa” most days.
“Zoe competes in pageants, and just yesterday at a rehearsal, the moderator asked her if she had one wish, what would that be. And Zoe said, ‘my wish is to bring my mama and papa back,’” Cynthia said.
Que en paz descansen Graciela y Tomás Treviño. Rest in peace.
Francisco Guajardo, chief executive officer for the Museum of South Texas History at 200 N. Closner Blvd. in Edinburg, authored this story as part of an ongoing series entitled Bearing Witness. The museum’s effort aims to document some of the Rio Grande Valley lives lost to COVID-19. For more information about the museum, visit MOSTHistory.org.
Editor’s note: This story was updated to correct the year of birth.
