“we’re just getting started”

30th-street-station

Thoughts as I waited to board my train to Washington, DC yesterday afternoon:

Clearly, there is some kind of gravitational force pulling me down to the DC metro area this afternoon – a wet, lazy Saturday when I would otherwise most likely be lying around the house, reading, hanging out with the pets – maybe, if I were feeling particularly motivated, heading over to the gym for a run, but certainly nothing more arduous than that.  Instead, I am parked at 30th Street Station, loving the Cosi wireless, thinking, once again, about First Descents.

The emails came last week, from an FD figure I have yet to meet:  ”Stepmom.”  Come down to DC next weekend, she urged.  There’s a fundraiser at my house, a screening of a documentary about the program and a memorial walk in honor of Alan Goldberg, the former FD executive director who passed away last year.  Oy!  Didn’t I just get back from Denver?  Hadn’t I already invited my sister and nephew down for that weekend?  What is happening to me?!?

Of course, the evening I received Stepmom’s email, I had the good (but also rather unexpected and sudden) fortune of meeting up with Hottie Bucks, fellow Jackson camper and just all-around awesome soul.  We spent two hours blabbing over some beer and wine, and, as with everyone with whom I shared Jackson, there was this tremendous sense of connection, of purity of emotion, that just over-took me as soon as HB and I sat down at The Good Dog.  It’s an amazing thing, leaving me intoxicated, empowered, each time my own psychic orbit crosses paths with that of another FD’er.

So, after a few days of ironing out logistics, it’s off to DC I go, to hang with Huggles, Flippy, B. Rad and Chunks.  And Stepmom.  And who knows who else.

I love this new family so dearly.  And the funny thing is, as Double-Oh texted me right after we parted company in the Denver airport at the end of camp, “We’re just getting started.”

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