It has now been almost a month that you’ve left us.
One month during which it has been impossible for me to write something personal.

I have been crying a lot, but not as much as I thought I would.
I have mostly been surprised to notice how many times I think of you every day, and then I would stop, because there is that other thought following right away: “oh, but she passed…” .

I cried a lot for Dad, too. I was closer to him than to you sometimes, because of our same type of emotions. But after Dad left, there was still you.
Now there is none left.
It is strange to be without parents.
It hurts.

I cannot say that you have been great model parents. You were not.
And I was not a model daughter. By far.
Yet, we were family. We took each other for granted, even thousands of miles away, since I chose to go live that far away from you.

I so wished I could have seen you once more, just once….

I hate it when a premonition turns out to be correct….
I remember like yesterday June 1999, when you stood in that railway station and I was in that train, leaving. I watched you becoming smaller and smaller, as I was driving away, and I couldn’t stop crying, because “something” inside told me that I would never see you again.
I didn’t….

It hurts.

But I know how much you have suffered these last months, in fact this last year. Life was so hard for you without Dad. I think that’s why you had the stroke, and that’s why you started losing your mind, and that’s why – in the end – you became sick and died so quickly. You missed him too much.

Now you are with him again.
Now you are whole again, too.
Now I am glad that you are well again, without pain, and happy.

Mama, this is to tell you my farewell, until I join you and Dad.

And… this is to tell you that I love you!