“Martin disappears and a family appears”, said a friend of Martin's in her farewell speech.
And me, a member of this family. A family which consists of people I have never met in blood and flesh before but I knew little story’s about them. Beautiful, kind, warm people living miles away from me but I feel so close to them. One might say, “this is not a family!” but to me feels like one. I can’t explain it with words. There is something special that bonds us and the bond himself is not here anymore, so each of us has the other to create the place for the one we miss and create a place to share ourselves too.
Martin brought us together and he arranged a big party where we could celebrate. That was his wish. That party was because of his death but I felt that is was about life. “A life that it can be shared is a stolen life” says a song and I’m grateful that among other gifts I got a new family too, to share, to give and receive.
He got us together and I hope we keep it together. I'm loking forward for the reunion, to rise our glasses and toast once again to Martin, to us, to life.
Around midnight the sun came out and shone bright. Awesome ! . I read next day’s newspapers. Nothing was written about it. Nothings about the moon’s spells and sun’s warmth. . Nobody saw that , but me. And I know nothing about that. . Struggling to find a word to describe it.
. Asking my mind, it says “don’t know” Asking my heart and it says “bliss”