Missing my mother often brings back a peaceful evening from the past, one that still lives quietly within me. There was a time when summers felt alive — not rushed, not heavy, just full of quiet energy.From March to August, the climate itself felt different: clear skies, warm sunlight, calm winds, and a softness that touched the heart before the skin. I would return from school around 2 p.m.My mother would already be waiting, food warm, made with love — the kind of food that doesn’t just fill your stomach, it comforts you. After that, if there was any homework, I finished it quickly. And then, exactly at 4 p.m.,…