Sometimes they ask me if I miss my family. I miss the idea I invented from them. I miss the mother I thought was running to the hospital. To the father I thought would carry his grandson’s coffin with dignity. To the sister I thought would cry with me. But to the real people, to those who chose beach, money and comfort before love, I don’t miss them.
Losing Joaquin and Mateo left me a void that nothing will fill. But losing my other family left me room. Space to breathe. To live without paying affection. To understand that loyalty is not begged and that those who do not appear on your worst day do not deserve to sit at your table when the sun comes back.
My son taught me to love. My husband taught me to trust. My family taught me to close a no-fault door.
And I finally learned to stay on the side where there is still peace.
