I’m
unsure how to even begin this post. The last few days have brought many
emotions; some I wasn’t expecting at all. I’m knackered.
I
couldn’t sleep well the past few nights. Partly due to the heat but mostly due
to the buzz from leads pouring in. My husband and I stayed up late on our
computers, looking up every tip. Even the stupid Moody Blues my husband mocked with (I Know You’re Out There Somewhere) distracted me only briefly for a
laugh.
I
have to laugh.
This
journey is fun. The youthful, carefree energy from 1998 with me even as
I wade through comments, trolls, and pictures people send. Because I like to write
fiction, I think it gets easy for me to think of him as a character. But
he’s not.
He’s
very real.
For
two years, I’ve blogged about this person. Someone I connected with long
ago- we were two kids, really- in a large city, unsure of our place. We clung
to the comfort of the other (me more than him, I’m sure). Many years ago I
traveled to San Francisco, grieving a significant death of someone I cared
about very much, and I began to heal. Joe was a part of that, and at the time,
wanted to be. I’m grateful. His meaningful inscription in a book about
connection and healing, motivated me to look for him now that I’m living in New
Zealand.
Thanks
to the Dominion Post for seeing the fun in this story, and to the lovely people
of Wellington, I now have a proper name for the person I’ve referred to as Joe
Wellington for so long.
Joe
and I have been in contact. I nearly had a panic attack when the email hit my
inbox. Because he’s real.
So
what’s next?
We’ll
meet. Today. I have no expectations.
Right
now, I have dishes to do and a sunrise to honour. But, I’m happy to finally be
able to say:
I’ve
found Joe Wellington.
(More to come)
