I will miss being missed

I was happy. My regular quiet, sometimes too thoughtful mood had vanished. I
was home. Even with the bad politicians, the unorganized markets, and the bad streets I
loved that place. The smells there are different. The food is better. People are more
honest in their conversations; they don’t hide their thoughts with fake laughter. I could
not describe my astonishment with my family, they came with the risk of missing their
home and friends, and routine for three months. Living in the northwest of the country,
my home state, for some time, while the world was online. I preferred the countryside
much more than the beach, but we were in a good middle.

When we arrived at our countryside home the animal’s symphony started to

play. We had so many people to visit, I grow up there in a time when baking a cake and
inviting your neighbor was normal. Not a breaking news event. My wife wanted to see
her long-time friend Lia, their friendship was unusual: completely different
backgrounds and bosom friends. We decided to visit her and her family that night,
choose a chicken and make it ourselves. Only the youngest child came with us, the
others would stay at home.

First, it started to rain. We were wet when we arrived, but it was all an
adventure. The dinner was amazing. Those simple people are good friends. Lia’s hands
were as tired as ready to serve. We could not share with them our last readings or the
challenges of homeschooling our children, but we talked and laughed with those kind
people.

On our way back a cow ran after us. I knew we would pass through a dangerous
place, a camp the mad cows call “home” but thankfully she was lazy. After a couple of
more minutes, we met a little girl, falling house and lost eyes. She was alone. Meeting
these children after having your own should be illegal: you want to take them with you,
and with all your flaws and imperfections be something for them. We whispered a
prayer for her and continued our journey.

My oldest daughter had thousands of stories to tell when we arrived. It is funny

to see them mature: one day they are independent, handling passports and hard tests
bravely and alone, in the other they feared a storm and missed us. I hugged them tightly,
I will miss being desperately missed.