The worst day of my life, thus far.
I was in the kitchen with my cousin Neusa, in the midst of making us something to eat and washing the dishes so that my mother would not give us a sermon when she arrived. I remembered being very happy at that precise moment, and then my little cousin barges in sniffing and trying to make his voice clear, which really alerts us. And so we asked him what happened, and he told me my mother just told him the unthinkable, and that she was coming upstairs. I could not grasp what was being said to me and so I just did what most people will do in this case; I broke down and cried. When my mother finally came upstairs with a wet red handkerchief in her hand to match the current colour of her eyes, I felt helpless. Then we told eachother "fica calma, seja forte, que tudo vai passar," hollow words that did not and will not suffice to ebb our sudden and all consuming pain.
