Writing a letter for a year to your beloved who has "departed" means extending their existence beside you, that in some way you manage to abolish the loss. This is what Xenia Kalogeropoulou sought to do in October 2013, when the curtain fell for her husband and soulmate, Kostis Skalioras. However, she achieved much more. As she recalls memories, sometimes bitter and sometimes funny, to tell them to Kostis, Xenia Kalogeropoulou succeeds in presenting us with a Greece that no longer exists, but which gave birth to critics like Kostis Skalioras and theater people like herself: urban salons, popular theaters, the Greek islands of the '40s and '50s, the commercial film production and the non-commercial theater of the '60s, the seven-year period as it was experienced, mainly, by theater people. And then, time flows, and all that past weaves through the decades to meet our present, bringing with it whatever has withstood the test of time.

Xenia Kalogeropoulou, known to all of us from cinema and her multifaceted contributions to children's theater, begins to write a "letter" to her husband Kostis Skalioras, a translator and theater and film critic, the day after his death. For over a year, she addresses her beloved partner, abolishing his absence and opening for all of us the curtain on a more personal, more unknown aspect of her life. With the tender vividness that characterizes Xenia's writing, on the pages of this peculiar "letter," the reader will embark on a great journey from the early years of the '40s to the present.