Coffee…or Wine

Faith. Hope. Love.

And/or just wine.  Wine would be fine, too.

Allow me to explain.

On Saturday, the day Christy wanted to meet up for coffee outside of Philadelphia, I originally had tickets to go to a wine festival with a group of friends.  I was supposed to drive to my friend Rachel’s house, then carpool with her to the festival.  Then drink wine all day.

Meeting my biological Aunt was probably one of few events that could get me to cancel those plans.

When I spoke with Christy on Friday night, she asked me to find a coffee place for us, then give her a call back Saturday afternoon.  Well, wine-time was supposed to start at 1pm, so I gave her a call at 11am to find out what time she was thinking would work for her (and I could go to the festival before, after, or not at all, depending upon her schedule).

This time when I called, she picked up right away.  I explained that I had found a place close by to where she was staying, and asked what time she wanted to meet.  She let me know that she was going out with her cousin (incidentally, also one of my “new” cousins!) first, but would call me when that was wrapping up.  Alright then.

So I drove to Rachel’s house to attempt wine-festivaling after all.  I’d just wine very lightly (yes, I’m using that as a verb in this case), so that I could head over to meet Christy when she called.  It wouldn’t be terribly far away, as it turned out.

By about 3:30pm, since I still hadn’t heard from her, I decided to send a text letting her know that I was at the festival but could leave at any time to come meet up with her.

It was an hour later before she responded.  The wine-crew and I were taking a sushi break when I received her message.  Basically, she wasn’t going to be able to make it–time got away from her as she was getting ready for the trip and she needed to head to the airport.

Was I disappointed?  Yes.  I can’t say that it didn’t feel like an early rejection, like perhaps not mattering all that much.  But at the same time, she doesn’t even know me yet, so maybe that makes all the sense in the world.  So far, I’ve largely just been a name on a screen, or a voice at the other end of the phone a couple of times.  That alone doesn’t make a person.

Besides, the fact that she was even considering working me into her schedule when she was going to be in Pennsylvania for less than a day and staying with other family (who she probably hadn’t seen in a while) to boot, well, that’s not nothing.  We mattered enough for her to consider it, and to ask.

And it wasn’t all bad news.  This did mean that I had full permission from myself to wine-on at the festival in accordance with the day’s original plans.

The next morning, I got an email from Christy apologizing again for not being able to make the timing work, but suggesting that we try again for her flight back to Philadelphia early next week.  We’ll see!

In the meantime, I’m re-tasked with writing this darn letter.  But where to even begin?!?!

It’s the last big thing (to my knowledge) that I need to do in this search, and yet the one that has always been the scariest.  And the most complicated.  It’s been much easier to put off than to get started, but I know that putting this off has been keeping me from doing anything else of consequence in the meantime.

I need to at least try to write what can’t fully be contained by words.

So maybe wine gets to save the day?  I did bring home two delicious bottles from the festival, after all.  It’s no Guinness, but the Irish seem to generally look favorably upon a little liquid courage now and again, yea?  No hurt in trying.