All my love

In a weekend, at the end of my course in the Faculty of Medicine, I run away of my hands on training in a backwater town in Brazil, after two weeks of isolation, anxiety, and homesickness. I arrived in Belo Horizonte longing for my mother's lap, and I ran into her. I bent down and put my head in her lap and cried a little bit while she caressed me saying sweet words of comfort. Both of us were surprised because scenes like that weren't common at all between us, actually were rare in our mother and daughter relationship. I've always missed my mom, and I think she missed me as well since we were always a way far from each other, although living in the same place.

When we were children, me and my brothers, she was so kind, loving and careful. But, as we grew up, in adolescence, she and I began to stay away from each other. I was aloof and arrogant most of the times, and she seemed to be intimidated by me. Of course, I didn't realize it at that point. She wanted to be closer but probably didn't find a gap in my self-sufficiency, what resulted in some conflicts, but worse than that, a dark distance between us. This situation lasted until I had my children. After that, we got a little bit closer, and she was always by my side when necessary, mainly regarding practical life issues. She used to take care and love my children as no one, gave me financial support when I needed, and showed her love in the small things. However, we kept on like strangers for each other.

Luzia was her name, and she was a real light in our lives and in the lives of the persons she hanged out. She was the core of our family and my father's safe harbor. She didn't have much formal education, and I have always thought that was why she expected a lot of me. On the one hand, I fully corresponded to her expectation, mainly in the professional field; on the other, I brought frustration and deception to her. My mother wanted to be my friend, and I wanted to be her friend, as well, but none of us knew how to do it.

At the moment of her death, in my mind, I wished her to go in peace, knowing that she had done everything in the best way that she could. But, I forgot to ask your forgiveness, Mom. I could have done better. I could have understood your fears, uncertainty and your longing for me, your oldest daughter. I could have made you my daughter, and could have given you my lap. I could have been by your side in the scary nights when you used to wait for my father until dawn. I could have drunk with you the caipirinhas you loved. We could have laughed together, and I could have told you about my life. But we missed that opportunity. Whereas you should be, I want you to know that I won't miss the next one.

Today you would be turning 88 years old, and I am more than 60. If I needed all these years to understand you, I would not need such long time to know you in a  next opportunity and to show you all my love and gratitude.

Mom, I want you to know that I talk with my grandchildren about you. Your spiritual light is still shining over me, my brothers, and all the people who knew you. And now you must be enlightening heaven as well.