In Panama, Mother's Day is a time to honor both those who are with us and those who have passed. It is an entire country saying 'thank you, mom'. From early morning, hundreds of families went to cemeteries and shrines to visit the women who continue to guide them from heaven. Flowers were arranged between tombstones and niches as a silent language that only love understands. In the Park of Memory, Raúl Mendoza arrived at his mother's tomb shortly before noon with a white rose. After leaving the rose, he stood in silence for a while, as if conversing with memory. In another shrine, María del Carmen, an only daughter, brought a small postcard that read 'Always with me'. 'I thought that was no longer used, but look... they made me cry. These things take you back to when my children were little,' she said, her voice still trembling. Meanwhile, Lissette Perea, a mother of four, heard a bolero that struck a deep chord. 'I come to feel her close. My mom loved these dates,' she said. 'She didn't speak loudly, but her words were heard in every gesture: 'I come every year, mom. It's not the same, but one learns to love differently,' she said, wiping away a tear. Thus, with singing voices, embracing families, and many memories, Panama once again celebrated a Mother's Day that keeps alive a tradition that is pure identity. Because here, December 8th is not a day: it is a tribute. From dawn, the capital's neighborhoods woke up to the rhythm of guitars, violins, and musical groups that walked through narrow streets, buildings, and sidewalks, serenading the mothers of each block. This tradition, which refuses to die despite the digital age, once again became the city's soundtrack.
