I took a lot of air before I entered the mausoleum inside the private cemetery of the Alcantaras. My hand is full of flowers, all sorts of chocolates, and toys for my son.

My son. My dead son.

The word brings so much pain in my heart.

When I entered the room, I was immediately greeted by Errol's smiling faces in giant frames attached to every corner.

It felt like I'm looking at my childhood photos.

It's his picture during his baptismal, his first birthday, and when he was I think a few days old. He's so small there... so fragile and so tiny.

I stood there in the middle...