My way to say good-bye

(1987) I am the bride. Claudia is besides me, and we both have this 80s face :) We had lots of fun together!

Once I read about a daughter whose mother has been buried by the family without her being present: she was living abroad as many of us are, and her mother was living on one of the Indian Ocean islands where like, in Brazil, there is no time to mourn the dead: in less than 24 hours people get buried.

This woman had to arrange her own Farwell from her mother: she made a book with many small things she collected about her mother. And, on a summer evening, she walked into a national park and made a funeral for her mother.

I am not on the same situation and I wish I won’t need to go though it, but today one of the persons that had divided good and bad moments with me between my 14 and my 34 has passed away: she was present when I married, when I divorced, when I got my first baby and all my birthdays until I came to live in Netherlands. She made all the food for all my parties and the best hot-dog sauce on face of earth. She always had a wonderful rice & beans waiting for me when I went to Brazil, although on the last two years circumstances had separated us a bit.

She used to read my blog and  always left a positive comment. Also on Facebook she was a constant presence. She is still to be seen on my followers list. And I am sad that we won’t have contact any more, even if life has separated us so much but in the end, as paradoxal as it could be, I had more contact with her via Facebook than with any other friend in Brazil.

She leaves a son behind. He is my nephew and I hope to be of some use for him one day.

Dear fried, good-bye. I have found a place for you here, at this post: because you were an online creature and I am also one. Make that blog about cooking we were talking about and delight the angels and saints where you are. And whenever I want to visit you, I can come back here. Rest on peace.