Death behind her eyes
Written by: Paulina Arbeláez
Illustrated by: Natalia Fernández Morales
It was a naïve moment when I first realized she was beginning to fall ill.
Every night, my mom had a habit of keeping the house lights on.
But that particular night, all the lights were off.
I walked slowly down the hallway and saw my mom standing by the closet. She was crying.
As her illness progressed, we took turns handling the household chores.
Always thinking of her well-being, we made her favorite meals, and she returned that love by keeping us company in the kitchen.
But over time, her smile began to fade.
Her strength dwindled, her hair fell, her green eyes turned brown
I left for Medellín, pretending to be strong, but her absence weighed on me.
Anxiety whispered to me every day, filling me with fear of a final message.
My life carried on—I longed for the holidays, keeping her always in my thoughts, showering her with Snoopy gifts.
Depression and anxiety steered my days, suffocating me with the thought that at any moment, that message would arrive: “Mom is gone.”
I returned home in September to say my final goodbye.
She could no longer speak, but she wrote on a small board to communicate. I took her hand and told her how much I loved her.
At 12:05, as I admired the moon, she left.
I made sure to fulfill her wishes: white and pink roses, a farewell filled with love.
Back in Medellín, the pain became real. But I learned to embrace it, to transform it into love.
I was surrounded by so much warmth, the sky painted in shades of orange, pink, and blue.
I no longer cry for not having her, but for having had her—for the beauty of her existence.
I no longer cry for not having her, but for having had her
Death behind her eyes is an intimate story about love, loss, and the transformation of pain.
Through memories and farewells, the author turns absence into a tribute to life and unwavering love.
