The idea of being away from my mother never tormented me as it was a very usual event in the family. However, it was only fourteen days after my eighteenth birthday, somewhat old for the home’s ranking, when I went through it, not like a storm, but I did feel it.

I remember packing two suitcases with my mother. The priority was to cover myself from the cold, reason why there were many more blankets than clothes. Also, there were some books and notebooks with lots of advice, that will help me deal with this new life, written by my mom.

Everything happened in less than twelve hours. We arrived in the morning to the new city; it was cold and mountainous as we expected. A total opposite of the plainness and heat of the Valle del Cauca I was used to.

We had an itinerary and at the end of the day my mother would come back home. And that’s how it was, we arrived at the cable car station and remained silent only the rain of that afternoon managed to disturb the moment. Before getting up into the cable car, my mother looked at me and said “count the hours and the kilometers that separate us; when you have done it, you will realize that the distance is not that big”. Finally, the door closed, and my mother left amidst many water lines.