Fifteen years earlier, my brother buried his wife...
and disappeared before the flowers of the grave withered.
No goodbyes.
No calls.
Without an explanation.
He only left behind his three young daughters.
𧸠Three girls and a single suitcase
I still remember that afternoon.
The social worker stood in front of my door while the girls remained hugged to each other.
One was 3 years old.
Another 5.
The biggest barely 8.
They brought a single old suitcase.
And eyes full of fear.
The smallest one asked:
When does Mom come back?
No one knew what to answer.
đ I waited for years
At first I thought my brother would be back.
He repeated to me:
âIt must be destroyed.â
âMaybe it needs time.â
âSomething must have happened.â
Because no father abandons his daughters right after losing his wife...
Right?
But the weeks turned months.
And the months...
years.
No calls.
No cards.
No birthday.
Nothing.
â¤ď¸ They slowly became my daughters
I was the one who prepared lunches.
Who combed the hair before school.
Who was left awake during the fevers.
Who embraced after nightmares.
I accompanied them:
- in graduations
- first loves
- tears
- successes
