My mother was, therefore, a woman with a husband who spent the best part of his six-day workweek in a salaried job, with few real friends, and except for her sister who lived in a town nearby, no extended family. Feeling her dreams crushed, with no chance to shine in the Uruguayan society, and not quite making it as an expat in Argentina. And then probably without even noticing, she took the train of sadness. The train of prolonged sadness leads to depression, and depression to despair, passing by the town of anger, finishing in hopelessness.