If you’d rather read than listen, here are the same words.
Hi. It’s Martine.
Just a small hello.
It’s been three months since our last Saturday. A whole season.
I hope it’s been gentler than you expected. I hope their name still comes easily. And I hope they’ve been coming to you in unexpected moments — in a song, in a beam of light, in a dream.
I was thinking about you the other day. About how brave you were, in those twelve weeks. About the words you wrote in the notebook. And about how steady you became, slowly — in ways you may only have noticed later.
Somewhere in this last season, something ordinary probably happened that only they would have understood. And you noticed it. That’s the bond, still working.
I wanted you to hear my voice again. Just so you remember: you are still met, even now. And they are still with you.
If you ever want to tell me where this has taken you, please write back. And I read every reply.
Until next time — they were here. And you loved them well.