I didn’t expect that someone I only saw in a group setting would become a steady, quiet presence in my life later. Back then, she was simply the facilitator — the one guiding the room, helping us all find our footing. I never imagined our connection would continue once the group ended.

But over time, I found myself reaching out whenever I needed a bit of steadiness — during a wave of sadness, a moment of uncertainty, or simply when I felt the ground shift under me. Each time, she replied with gentle encouragement, never dramatic, never overstepping — just enough clarity and kindness to help me breathe again.

There is something quietly profound about someone who doesn’t have to show up for you anymore, but still chooses to do so in small, thoughtful ways. Our exchange isn’t frequent or elaborate. It’s simple: I reach out when I’m overwhelmed, and she responds with words that make the heaviness feel a little less sharp.

That’s my gratitude today — not for grand support, but for the quiet kind. For the unexpected presence that continues through a handful of emails, steady and kind, long after the setting that brought us together has ended.