Débora’s Story

I've never really found the right time to write this, it's never felt like the right time. But I don't want to let it go and I feel that now is the time, the perfect time to talk about my mum.

My mum had me when she was 39, at a time when such pregnancies were considered risky, but everything went well, and it's always been something that my family has remembered with fondness - the way I was born, when it was. My parents were older, but young at heart, and they've always supported me through all my adventures and decisions, the good ones and the not-so-good ones.

Focusing on my mother, her name was Otilia - an unusual name that I believe shaped her personality. She was always cheerful, friendly and talkative, and wherever she went, everyone knew her. She was and is a very social person, always helping others. She was the eldest of four fun-loving sisters and she always cared deeply for her family, both the one she was born into and the one she created with my dad, my brother and sister, me and my four nephews.

She was always a devoted mother, looking after everyone, but she also had her own life as a wife, a woman and a friend to her close friends. I've always been proud of how she balanced everything and enjoyed her life.

Even though she's not here physically, I know she's still with us. Her essence is in me, and even though she's gone unexpectedly, she's still here, watching over us. In May, Mum, it will be two years since you've gone. I know I'll see you again and we'll be reunited. I miss you as much as I did the first day. I wish you could come back. I send you kisses, Débora

I'm writing this as the tears are falling; I can't help it -( you've left an immense void).