A Day In Life — My Mother’s Birthday

Yesterday my mother turned 57 years old.

I wasn’t sure how many years it would be until she put the 5 and 7 on top of the orange cake I made. For me, it was at that moment when I got restless.

Is it a fearful age. You see, my friend was 57 when she died. Susana, who had been my Portuguese teacher in high school and an assistant teacher in my classes in ninth grade, had clearly been much more than that as well. Over the years, she had become a kind of second mother by the time I became an adult.