The Yard
Elizabeth N. Flores
March 1, 2026
It’s not what we brought
to our parents gravesite on
what would have been
their 60th wedding anniversary
that best evoked their memory.
prayer cards our rosaries
plates of BBQ a tray of brownies the ice chest
Eydie Gorme & the Trio Los Panchos
and Rene & Rene songs softly playing on the boombox
It’s what my brother said, noticing that
after a week of unexpected pounding rain,
much needed after months of relentless and blistering South Texas heat,
the grass on their plot was overgrown.
“The yard needs mowing.”
If the birds drinking from the nearby Our Lady of Guadalupe fountain were listening, they heard our childhood memories turn to Sundays, Pop’s only day off.
Pop launching his day after a quick read of the Corpus Christi Caller-Times over a plate of chorizo taquitos and two glasses of Mama’s freshly squeezed orange juice.
The sound of his lawn mower overtaking the neighborhood, without fail, precisely at 7 a.m. Pop’s legendary commitment to keeping up the yard on full display. Whether driven by immense pride in home ownership or a dreaded unease that neighbors might say he fell short, we never knew for sure.
Mama leaving Pop a thermos of coffee next to his tools in the garage, ushering us into the car. As we headed for Mass, the sound of Pop’s mower roaring even with the windows up.
The Domingo Peña Show blaring on the TV. Live music! Interviews! The charm and delight of the Mexicano community in the spotlight! But Pop was reluctant to watch it for more than a few minutes, knowing if he did he would lose time out in the yard.
Mama carrying a plate of sandwiches outside to Pop midday while he took a break. As he ate they talked about what seemed like endless plans for the yard, the flower beds they would line with new shrubs, how long it would take for the shrubs to shed that just-planted look, the mesquite tree that needed trimming, adding a vegetable garden in the backyard near the patio, and placing new potted plants on the front porch.
After Pop finished, he and Mama standing together, quietly viewing the yard, as if they were looking at it for the first time.
“I think I have some clippers in my truck,” my brother said.
He polished off his plate of BBQ, grabbed two brownies,
and headed to his truck to check.
Elizabeth N. Flores, Professor Emeritus of Political Science, taught for over 40 years at Del Mar College and was the college’s first Mexican American Studies Program Coordinator. Her recent poems can be found in the TPA Quarterly, the Windward Review, the Texas Poetry Assignment, The Senior Class: 100 Poets on Aging, edited by Laurence Musgrove, and ¡Somos Tejanas!: Chicana Identity and Culture in Texas, edited by Jody A. Marín and Norma E. Cantú.
