April 3, Tuesday

We take a taxi to the Catholic Archdiocese of São Paulo, which heads up the Brazil Never Again commission. It’s in a nondescript office building but security is tight and we have to go through several checks before entering.

I step up to the reception desk, flanked by Carlos and Kai. “My sons and I have brought documents for the commission handwritten by my husband, a torture victim who later disappeared. I mailed photocopies from the US in 1979, but we want the originals to remain with the commission.”

The receptionist looks at us kindly. “Yes, Senhora, please have a seat and someone will be with you shortly.”

In just a moment a man comes forward and shakes our hands. “I am Brother João. Please, let’s go back to the conference room.”

We sit and I place the package of documents on the table. “My sons and I have brought you these documents. My husband survived torture once but then disappeared in 1971. Before his disappearance he wrote down all the details of his imprisonment in Rio three years before. He asked me to make sure this record came into the right hands.”

Brother João bows his head slightly. “Senhora Lima, we will commit his record and his bravery to the country’s memory.”

“And there is one more thing.” I reach into my pocket and bring out Luiz’s wedding ring. “This was left on my front doorstep two days after his final disappearance. Please put it with the artifacts relating to the atrocities.”

He bows his head. “We will add these precious documents to the archival record, and his wedding ring to the artifacts. May God keep you safe and bring peace to you all.”

There’s nothing more to say, and I walk out into the bright sunshine with my sons. The three of us hug, but there are no tears, just pride in their father and his courage.