Soooo, today, June 24, 2026, is the anniversary of the day one-hundred-and-twenty-six years ago when Juana Valbuena Rubiano, the future queen of Manizales, patroness of the arts and of civic causes, spiritual leader and entrepreneur was born.  She was my maternal grandmother and, of course, she still is, just not on our plane of existence anymore, or is it plain?  Or both?  Everyone seemed to refer to her as “Doña Juanita” but we called her “la Mamita”.  So did my own three sons.

She was an amazing woman and, as was the custom in the Republic of Colombia then (not anymore though), she tacked on the names of her spouses.  The first was my grandfather Jean Eugénio Mahé, a physician descended from a French noble family and clairvoyant as well.  A pretty good catch except that, like too many good things, he didn’t last.  He died young leaving his young wife, Juanita de Mahé then, with two young children: my mother, María de Rosario de Nuestra Señora de Chiquinquirá (a mouthful) Mahé Valbuena and her younger brother, Francisco Eugenio Mahé Valbuena.  Eugenio’s funeral was wonderful; everyone came, everyone to whom he’d extended credit especially.  He’d taken his role as a physician seriously and payment, as in communism, varied with the person’s ability to pay.  But after the funeral no one paid their debts and my grandmother Juanita was left with very little in the way of capital.  Fortunately, she was not only extremely beautiful but a survivor  and she invested the little capital she had in a small shoe business and then sold it when it became profitable and purchased a hotel in Manizales, the famous Hotel Roma on 22^nd street between 23^rd and 24^th avenues, today the place where the Notary Number Two of Manizales, stands.

Being beautiful, suitors were plentiful and one won her heart, his name was Germán Restrepo and he too, like my grandfather Eugénio, was from a prominent family, this one Colombian, a family with politicians and presidents and entrepreneurs galore.  Unfortunately, he was its black sheep, and a very dark shade of black.  He was handsome and charismatic and especially charming, but work was not his thing, nor was fidelity.  And bigamy was not something he disdained.  He would leave and return, then leave again, always charming his way back into my grandmother’s heart.  He did do two good things though, in fact, great things.  He gave my grandmother two more children, daughters.  First Carola and then Livia.  Livia is still around although in California, everyone else in this reflection (other than grandchildren and great grandchildren and great-great grandchildren) now resides beyond the veil. 

My grandmother was not a “Women’s Liber” although she was the mold from which the very best of them were made.  She was a natural leader, generous and responsible and an example to follow when success seemed impossible but had to be attained.  I love and admire her very much.  So does Livia.  So do my three sons and the many children of my Uncle Francisco (we called him Pacho), all of whom, like me, are her grandchildren.  And many of the grandchildren now also have children and they have all heard about their Mamita. 

My grandmother left a legacy in Manizales, well, many in fact, but one in particular, her beautiful country home: a small pink castle speckled in gold set atop a large hill with an arroyo at its base and millions of flower’s she’d planted (or had planted) up and down the hill, mainly carnations but roses as well and fruit trees.  It had its own name, the Atardecer (Sunset), and it had a pool with an adjacent gazebo and, nearby, a large artificial lake with ducks and swans and a tiny lake house where equipment was stored.  She left it in trust for pregnant girls whose families had disowned them.  It was named after her:  the Hogar Juanita”.  Unfortunately, as too often happens in Colombia (and elsewhere), after her passing an unscrupulous politician appropriated it, sold most of the property to real estate developers, and the main building is now leased to a private School, “El Nuevo Gimnasio”. 

Sometimes people are terrible.  But then again, there are people like her.  I have never met anyone better or kinder or wiser or more loving.  And I’ve met a lot of awesome people.

She lived past one hundred but decided she did not need to attain the age of a hundred-and-one, so she left us.  Gone but certainly not forgotten.  Anyway, today is her birthday and, as always, my heart and soul are with her.

Happy birthday Mamita!
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© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2026; all rights reserved.  Please feel free to share with appropriate attribution.

Guillermo (“Bill”) Calvo Mahé (a sometime poet and aspiring empirical philosopher) is a writer, political commentator and academic currently residing in the Republic of Colombia (although he has primarily lived in the United States of America of which he is also a citizen). Until 2017 he chaired the political science, government and international relations programs at the Universidad Autónoma de Manizales. Previously, he chaired the social studies and foreign language departments at the Eastern Military Academy in Huntington, New York. He is currently the publisher of the Inannite Review available at Substack.com; an intermittent commentator on radio and television; and, an occasional contributor to diverse periodicals and publications. He has academic degrees in political science (BA, The Citadel, the Military College of South Carolina), law (JD, St. John’s University, School of Law), international legal studies (LL.M, the Graduate Division of the New York University School of Law) and translation and linguistic studies (GCTS, the University of Florida’s Center for Latin American Studies). However, he is also fascinated by mythology, religion, physics, astronomy and mathematics, especially with matters related to quanta, cosmology and cosmogony. He can be contacted at guillermo.calvo.mahe@gmail.com and much of his writing is available through his blog at https://guillermocalvo.com/.