A Mother Who Already Knows That Love Does Not Die

On living, holding on, and continuing to love…

There is a moment—
it has no date—
when a mother stops searching for her child in time
and begins to recognize him in another dimension.

It does not happen all at once.
It does not happen without moving through life as it truly is.
But it happens.

This year taught me that.

That love does not leave with the body.
That it does not disappear with calendars.
That it does not dissolve simply because the world keeps moving forward with its own demands.

Love changes form.
It becomes more subtle.
Deeper.
More conscious.

We are living in complex times.
For many, hard times.
Life does not stop for anyone,
and each day—for different people, in different places—
carries its own weight, its own struggles, its own losses.

Added to this is the personal, the intimate,
and also the collective:
the decisions that affect us, the policies that strike,
the uncertainties we do not choose
but must nonetheless learn to hold.

There were moments when the spirit asked for pause.
Not because love was lacking,
but because life, in all its intensity,
needed to be breathed more deeply.

That is why the silence.
That is why the inward turning.
That is why the weeks without words.

Sometimes, honoring life is not about moving forward,
but about staying still
and allowing the soul to catch up with the heart.

Matías is not a memory.
He is not an absence.
He is a presence that does not depend on circumstances.

He is in the way I look at the world now.
In what I have learned to hold without hardening.
In the certainty that true love
does not need favorable conditions in order to exist.

Today I do not close a year.
I acknowledge a learning.

I am a mother who already knows
that love does not die.