Anyone who has ever been through the experience of saying goodbye to a loved one, knows how much it hurts to see their burial.

Or to deliver the body to cremation. After all, the being that used to animate that body was very much loved and cherished.

More than that, the passing of the days doesn't make the pain of longing any easier, it just seems to increase it. 

When the person who passed, taken by the arms of death, is elderly, there's a little comfort, which is expressed by: They're going to rest. It's fair that they rest, after so many fights.

But when it's the young, the children that are gone, in a premature way, the pain seems to have another dimension. Because of that, when we read the letter from a mother, to her little one, who had been gone for eight months, we were moved.

Dear daughter. Eight months have passed since we said goodbye. It is incredible how time goes by…

I still hope to dream of you so I can hold you and comfort you in my arms, like I did for almost five years.

Today, I stopped to remember details about you. I remembered when you wanted to help me with the house chores.

What are you doing mommy? I wanna help.

I remembered I used to put you on a chair so you could reach the spices drawer and while I was cooking you'd give me what I asked for.

You couldn't see them, but you recognized them all by their smell.

This is basil. This is marjoram. Mommy, where is the cinnamon? 

I remembered when we used to make pastry and I put the dough in your little hands so you could help me with the filling.

And the day your grandmother taught you how to make cookies... When she explained to you that both of your hands needed to stay together, rolling the dough, this way and that way, you surprised her by saying: I know grandma. I have practiced.

We laughed so much when this kind of situation happened. And, like a stream of recordings I heard your little voice asking for bread with butter or ring cookies, your favorites.

How many names did we make up for things: mommy's meaty, which was minced meat; grandma's choco pudding, which was supposed to be chocolate.  

What a beautiful world we made up! I would like you to know that living with you was an honor.

What a beautiful love lesson you left us, my angel! Mommy Luciana.

*   *   *

The words seem to sprout from the felling of longing, made from the waiting and certainty of a reunion at some point in this life or another.  

Certainty that her little angel lives the Immortality of the Spirit. And because of that the mother writes her, counting on the words reaching her, wherever she is in this immense spiritual world.

How comforting is the certainty of Immortality for the ones who stay on Earth!

Knowing that the loved ones live, listen to them, see them. Knowing that, through the strands of thoughts, they can send vibrations of tenderness, is a sweet consolation.

Being sure that a reunion will happen, someday, that love is not lost, even when the carnal eyes can't see the loved one, is comforting for someone who suffers the physical absence of the loved person.

It is good for the soul to be able to continue with the dialogs, even if sometimes the answer might not be well understood by the one who asks the questions, the yearnings and puts the longing into words.

Immortality! What extraordinary gift the celestial Father gave us when He created us.

We should be grateful for that.

Spiritist Moment Team, based on a few words written
by Luciana Costa Macedo to her daughter Luana,
on the eighth month of her passing.
November, 18.2013.