The Meeting Room With Your Name

I’m doing well, Steve. Thank you for asking.

The office is okay. The big meeting room still has your name on the small brass plate by the door. Nobody took it down. We still say “let’s meet in Steve’s room” when we need to talk. It feels right that way.

Lagos was steady this week. We closed the quarter, paid salaries early, and the client renewed the contract. I ran the Monday meeting the way you taught us — agenda first, updates short, decisions clear. No time wasted, no excuses.

I hope you’re doing well too. I hope you have a room of your own now. One with quiet, and light, and no deadlines tapping on the door. You gave us years in rooms like this. You deserve a break.

_Que sera, sera._ Whatever will be, will be. We’re not rushing the next chapter. We’re doing this one well.

Your name is still on the door. Your chair at the head of the table is still empty. The whiteboard still has your handwriting in the corner: “Aim higher.”

Come back when you’re ready. We’ll save you the seat, and let you run the meeting again.

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