Marti was a sister, a friend, a keeper of warmth. The kind of person who made every room feel like home before you’d taken off your coat. She poured coffee like she poured her love — slow, generous, and on purpose.

This coffeehouse is built on the rhythms she taught us: the patience of the buna ceremony, the courage of asking how someone really is, and the quiet dignity of sitting together without rushing toward an answer.

Marti’s is for the lingerers, the journal-keepers, the ones between chapters. We hold a chair for you always.