At a colleague's funeral, I found myself standing before the niche of Maria Carlotta de Rego Aguiar. I'd seen this face many a times but today it dawned on me that she is my great-grandmother on my mother's side. It brought home the fact that I owe my existence to this woman – a sobering realization indeed.

Looking around at lifelong friends attending mass with me, it was clear how time had etched its mark on us all. Our shapes altered, walks slowed and looks changed; life is certainly different from our youthful days.

Gazing at the church, I pondered if my great-grandmother had walked this very path when things were starkly different. Being in our shared birthplace felt like an indulgence; connecting myself to several generations rooted here made me feel deeply native.

Today reinforced that embracing one's roots creates a strong sense of belonging, something we often neglect but should cherish instead.