completely wilted. But her mother was not coming back. Three days ago, she had received a call from an unknown number and answered it: ‘Are you the daughter of ...?’ they asked. Anxiety immediately overwhelmed her. She knew that whatever the news was, it would not be good. ‘Your mother has been admitted to hospital. She was found unconscious in the street. She is under observation.’ She didn't know how she got to the hospital, she knew it must be serious, otherwise it would be her mother calling her, not someone from the hospital... ‘If I can count to ten before the traffic lights change, everything will be fine,’ she thought as she drove. She knew it was absurd, but she couldn't help being overwhelmed by magical thoughts... ‘What if... what if... my mother will be fine.’ She arrived at the emergency room and identified herself. They asked her to wait for the doctor... she waited for what seemed like an eternity. Anxiety, fear, helplessness, hope, memories, a whirlwind of emotions... she couldn't sit still. The doctor arrives and tells her a series of technical things that seem incomprehensible to her. She only hears the end: ‘It's a matter of time, you can stay with your mother. Say goodbye.’ Say goodbye! How do you do that? She felt she had done so, but she wasn't sure, how do we know if we've said goodbye properly?! And now, after the wake and the funeral, there she was, at her mother's house, where she was still so present. Present in her absence. A princípio, ela pensou que fosse tudo um mal-entendido. Não podia ter escutado bem: – Está horrível! – disseram os miúdos. – Como, está horrível? – perguntei. Tinha investido muito tempo a fazer aquele jantar, eu que nem gosto de cozinhar. – Comam e deixem-se de histórias. – disse peremptoriamente. Com um ar mal-disposto, os meus sobrinhos e o seu amigo meteram mais uma colher de sopa na boca… Sentei-me à mesa e provei a sopa. Estava mesmo horrível, eles tinham razão. Disse-lhes: – Não precisam de comer a sopa. Vá, vou servir-vos o segundo prato. Sorrisos e caras muito satisfeitas ao afastarem o prato da sopa para o lado, mas o ar de estarem a comer com esforço voltou quando levaram a primeira garfada de carne à boca. Não, não pode ser, pensei. Será que também não está saborosa? Antes de fazer qualquer pergunta, decidi provar e, realmente, estava bastante má.
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