A few weeks later I took the letter from my in-tray and started to translate, typing directly as I read, without letting the meaning run ahead of my fingers.

To all ships at sea, to all ports of call, to my family, to all friends and strangers.

This is a message, a prayer. The message is that my sufferings have taught me a great truth.

I already had (a long time ago) what everyone is searching for, and few ever find, the only person in the world whom I was born to love for ever, my first son, Maurice. A child rich in simple treasures, that no wind . . . no storm . . . not even death could ever destroy. The prayer is for all mothers to know such a love and be healed by it. If my prayer is answered, it will erase all errors . . . all regrets . . . and soothe all anger.

Please, God . . .

My life started when he was born, and I thought it was over when he left me one summer’s evening, never to return. He was thirteen years old . . . Without warning, he slipped away from life in an excess of desires, too full of vivid life, at the dawn of summer. For a long time he travelled between two waters, between two lights, trying tirelessly to use up the strength in his outstretched arms. He submitted to the silence, the terrors and the cold, but he discovered the secret ways of the universe, the infinite movement of our origins, and the wanderings of the stars.

He didn’t know that I, his mother, fed him with my thoughts to grant him eternal life in memory, to keep him whole within my flesh.

Forgive me, my son, my love . . . I thought that by clinging to your memory in this way I would keep us both alive for as long as possible. Forgive me, my son, for not having spoken to you for such a long time. I felt I was lost, without my bearings. I kept crashing into things, stumbling everywhere . . . I had never been lost before you left me. You showed me the north, I always found my way, for you were my way.

Forgive me for being so angry at your disappearance. I still think there’s been some mistake, and I keep waiting for God to fix it.

I’m doing better now, my love. The road has been long, very long, but through it all you have supported me.

A few nights ago, you appeared to me in a dream, and your smile rocked me like a child. I understood that it was time for me to let you go.

You stayed close to me for all these years . . . I clung on with all my despair to what was no longer and what would never be again.

My infinity, I thought this suffering bound me to you. It consumed me until it left no room for anything else, but I began to permit it to leave my heart, my soul, my very being. Thanks to you, my love, I succeeded in transforming this suffering into love, into life. All that I remember of this dream is a feeling of peace, for you, for me. When I awoke I still felt it, and I tried to keep the feeling alive for as long as possible.