Reality shock: Why I didn't cry at my mother's funeral (Spoiler: I'm not evil, I swear)
Before you feel offended! I loved my mother more than my life. She was my best friend and as I grew up I always wanted to be like her. Paradoxically, I didn't cry because all the love. Or that's what I believe. Yes, like all mothers she used to get into my nerves but all because she would, also, give her life for me and wanted me to be the best version of a human being I could possibly developt into. I owe her everything. I was happy. My big latino family was happy; until one day almost five years ago a phone call would change my little nebula, and everybody's around it. I was alone at work, and someone call me saying my mom was in some sort of "accident" and I needed to get to the airport. She was working in another city at the time. I called my aunts, they were also on their way, so instead I headed home first to get a suitcase with the basics and then I'd get a cab to the airport. On the way home I was serene, I wasn't worri...