My daughter said she would take me to live with her to take care of me and my son-in-law promised to give me ten thousand pesos every month. But exactly one year later, when I heard what they said about me in the kitchen… I understood that I was wrong.

No one had kicked me out.

But I wasn’t really at home either.

The next morning I woke up early, as usual. I made breakfast and left it ready on the table.

Mariana left her room with her hair still wet.

“Mom, you got up very early again,” he said smiling.

I smiled too.

“You know I’m used to it.

Javier came out shortly after, checking his phone as he poured himself coffee.

The scene seemed the same as everyday.

No one mentioned anything about the previous night’s conversation.

Neither did I.

Two weeks passed.

During that time I started doing something that no one noticed.

I put my things in order.

Not all at once. Little by little.

I put away the clothes I wasn’t wearing. I separated some memories into a small box. I checked my documents, my bank book, my medications.

I also checked the money I had left behind.

I still had enough.

One afternoon I went down to the park as usual. I sat on the same bench where I was talking with other ladies.

That day I didn’t talk much.

I watched the children run and thought of Mariana when she was that age.

I had always believed that the love between mother and daughter was something that did not change.

Maybe it hadn’t changed.

Maybe life had just grown up around that love.