This is one of the last photos of my dearest mamae. She made it through the open-heart surgery and even went to her regular room... before she had a relapse, back to ICU (that's when I got in the plane and flew down to Rio) and there died. My little brother Felipe is with her, her own "number nine". He was incredibly attached to her and I remember how painful it was for him to see her suffer.
I still miss her, and cry. The sorrow doesn't go away, I don't think, we just somehow learn to live with it. I have been following a blog on grief recently and have been fascinated by all of the comments on this... so much sorrow in the hearts.
It has been five years, five sad years. All who knew her miss her loving eyes, wisdom, kindness and humility. She still teaches, and guides me, even after five years. I can think of nothing for which I am more grateful to God: without her I would be a different woman, wife, mother.
I can't wait to see you again, Mamae.