September 12, Wednesday

Mamãe has gone to be with the Lord. She has left this vale of tears for a better place, walking on the banks of the river with Jesus in heaven. We are going to the church today to pray for her soul and commit her body to the ground. I must get the children ready. They don’t understand and keep asking for Mamãe. I don’t understand how she can be gone. But I must be joyful that she is with the Lord.

Everything is different. I am sad but I can’t cry because I have to take care of the children. Cacilda has come today but she seems lost; without Mamãe to guide us we do our best but the house is a mess. We have food because neighbors bring meals to us. My new baby brother has no name yet. I want to see him but he is with Dona Maria, who is caring for him and giving him mamar.

Papai walks back and forth in the yard looking up at the sky, praying. He must cry at night when we can’t see him, because his eyes are puffy and red. He has not gone to work because we are at home with Mamãe and will take her to church and to the cemetery today.

Dona Severina comes to speak again with Papai; I hide and listen but can’t hear everything she says. She is talking about blood: everything was fine, then blood, couldn’t be stopped. Mamãe didn’t suffer, she was gone quickly. My baby brother was born healthy before the blood came and Mamãe died. Papai hangs his head down while she talks to him.

Cacilda and Dona Severina and I get the children washed and dressed in their finest Sunday clothes and nice shoes. They are all very quiet and do as they are told without complaining and playing around like they usually do. Papai comes out of his bedroom wearing a dark suit. I have never seen Papai wear a dark suit, only in the picture of him and Mamãe on their wedding day on the wall in the living room.

The men from church have come to take Mamãe for the service. Papai won’t preach today, Pastor Jônatas will be doing the service. Papai gathers us together and we go out the front door and into the street, following the men as they carry Mamãe’s coffin through the streets to the church. People come out of their houses and join the procession, dressed in their Sunday best, walking silently.

We arrive at our church. We enter behind the pallbearers and they place the coffin in front of the altar. We sit together in the front. Everyone files in and sits in the pews. The church is so full that people have to stand in the back. Pastor Jônatas begins with a prayer then he begins to preach. He talks about Mamãe: that she was a good Christian, she loved the Lord, she loved her husband and her family, she was upright in the ways of the Lord, she cared for the poor. People murmur in agreement. He talks about something in the Bible and how good Christians go to be with the Lord. I can’t really pay attention to what he is saying, and I look up at the rafters and try not to think about Mamãe being gone forever.

Everyone rises to sing a hymn, their voices filling the little church. A small band plays as people sing. The preaching, the prayers, the singing all blur together with my tears. Then the service is over and we walk into the bright sunshine as the men carry Mamãe to the cemetery next to the church. My eyes are frozen on the dark hole in the ground as the coffin is lowered. Papai throws the first dirt deep in the hole and there are more prayers.

Everyone goes back to the church, this time to the social hall, where huge amounts of food are laid out. The band is playing hymns and people get plates and fill them with food, everyone talking as they eat. I am not hungry but some ladies fix me a plate. I sit at the end of the table with my brothers and sisters as everyone is talking. Three women are talking about Papai.

“He may be crying, but he has a hole in his handkerchief.”

“Yes, he is looking around, definitely.”

“He can’t possibly get by with all those children, what will he do otherwise?”

I can take care of the children, I am old enough. I know what to do. Mamãe taught me a lot about cooking. I will not cry anymore. I will take care of everyone, so that Papai can work and Daniel can go to school. And I will take care of the new baby as soon as he can take a bottle. I will show them.