The first mother’s day without a mother

Cardiff, 12th May 2013 
                                                                         Mother's Day (the 1st one without you)

'Benca, mae! Feliz dia das maes!!!!!'
'Eeeeeeeeee meninaaaaaaa!!!! Thanks. God bless you!'

NOT. This conversation didn't happen this year, and it will never happen again. EVER. My heart is bleeding and all I can think of is that I've had enough. I don't want to play this game anymore. It's been 3 months already, can I please speak to my mother now. I NEED to speak to you, mother. I NEED to see you again. I NEED to kiss your soft cheeks, to stroke your hair and hold your chubby, soft hands....

I've been trying to explain to myself what it is I am feeling. The closest thing I could get to it, mother is this: remember when we used to go to the supermarket (Alo Brasil, on Afonso Pena Ave.) and you tried to make sure I stayed close to you at all times? Well, it feels like I'm a child again, and I suddenly can't see you around. That place is huge, and in my littleness all I can think of is that I can't see my mummy anywhere.... That little moment of panic of not recognizing the place, the people... and the most important and terrifying of all things: my mummy is nowhere to be seen. The heart skips a bit (well, it's been quite a few bits skipped since you've gone, mother), the breathing fails and the world just seems way too big for me without you in it.

Really, can we cut this crap now? Can you please find me in one of the long supermarket aisles? I'll probably be by the chocolates and sweets. Could you please just come back and we can pretend none of this has ever happened? Please?

I can't stop seeing you in my mind. Your smiley face is just too hard to look at, mother, so much it hurts, but I can't stop looking. And I can't stop wanting more of you. I know that we'll be together again and all that, but the thought of it taking so long makes it so unbearable that sometimes I wish it could be sooner rather than later. I know this is ridiculous, and that you'd tell me off for thinking that way, but I just miss you too much. I miss you too much to want to think about anything else, to do anything else, but think of you. Simple as that.

I spoke to Xu earlier today. She and Isa went to see dad this weekend, Mother's Day. And you know what they did, mother? Of course you do. They went back 'home' and they had to pack all your stuff. Your clothes, shoes, bags, everything. They had to go through your things on Mother's Day weekend, mother. I can only imagine how hard it all was for them. I know it may be selfish of me, but I'm glad I didn't have to do it. Doing it once was enough. Doing it one day after you were buried was enough. On the other hand, I guess I'd have liked to be there. I would have got inside your closet and closed myself in there, touching your clothes, trying to smell you, to feel your presence from inside a wardrobe! They would commit me into a mental hospital if they saw me!

Mother, I'm missing you like crazy. Every day, every troubled moment. In my childish ways I think you'll be available any minute. All I want is to call 'home' and hear your voice. But I know it will never happen again...

Happy Mother's Day, mother. I hope you are resting a lot.
I love you forever! xxxxxxx

p.s. Did you see?  I made you a card....  =)

Letters to my mother

Letters to my mother


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