Terminada a sessão, ela tinha de sair, pelo que se despediu e voltou costas à analista e à escrivaninha. Ainda virou a cabeça novamente para trás, mas já a analista ocupava todo o espaço, não a deixando ver o papelinho novamente... Sair do edifício, andar pela rua, apanhar o metro, regressar a casa… tudo foi feito com o papel na cabeça. “Eu acho que tinha o nome dela lá escrito. Acho que vi: Isabel". Foi difícil esperar pelo dia seguinte. A hora que antecedeu a sessão, teve os minutos contados, um a um, até perfazerem sessenta. Um toque à campainha. Olá. Espreitar. Deitar. São quarenta e cinco minutos de espera e teria mais uma oportunidade. Aquele livro continua de pernas para o ar. Qualquer dia digo-lhe. "Bom, ficamos por aqui". Levantar. Lentamente... espreitei: " Isabel, amanhã falaremos melhor".
His attention was drawn to a piece of paper on the table.
Alexandra Coimbra, Sociedade Portuguesa de Psicanálise His attention was drawn to a piece of paper on the table. He picked up the paper; it was a shopping list, a mundane thing, fruit, bread, milk... The shopping his mother would no longer do. It was difficult and, at the same time, comforting to be there in his mother's house. He could see her coming in at any moment and resuming her life where it had been interrupted. The house was tidy, clean, the flowers in the vases had not yet 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.
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