So do I, Ms. Feverfew. So do I.

Dear Ms. Feverfew –

I can’t tell how incredibly tempting it is to “friend” you on facebook…it seems like such a nice easy way to ease back into us, don’t you agree? But I am waaaaaay to chicken to ever do anything that…brave, crazy, audacious. I can only imagine the tizzy it would put your adoptive parents into and I don’t want to do anything to upset them.

But some days, I sit there with the mouse pointer hovering over the button while my sane, logical side is screaming at me to DO NOT CLICK SEND while my mushy, lovey, mommy side is longing to do it just this once.

I also think it is really cool that people can find you on google – it is how I found you, after all. The first time was purely an accident. Sort of. After years of googling your name to just “see what I could find”, I stumbled across a local [to your neck of the woods] band’s myspace page & found a post by [insert your first name here] from [insert your hometown here]. On a hunch, I followed that link back several generations and the rest, as they say, is history.

To be frankly honest, when I first saw the pictures you had posted, I had a complete and utter come apart. Coincide Jeff called me about 10 minutes later and all I could do was sob uncontrollably, with complete abandon and very little time for inhaling. He thought something horrible had happened – my mom had died, his sister had taken a turn for the worse with her cancer treatments, one of the boys was in the hospital. He kept asking, guessing all kinds of horrible things because I could not talk.

I am still not sure how he deciphered my incoherent, guttural sobs from the far side of the globe on a thin, scratchy satellite phone connection with a 2 second delay. Once he was assured that everyone was OK and no one was dead or in the hospital, he told me how “cool” he thought it was and that I should be happy I had found you again.

That night…oh dear, it was like loosing you all over again. So he was also right when he thought something horrible had happened. Just many, many, many years before that night.

I called my mom at 10:30 p.m. after I got off the phone with Jeff and somehow managed to let her know I absolutely needed her to come to my house right then. I think I said something to the lines of “Boo-Bear” (my nickname for you) and “pictures” and “need you now.” Not sure how she deciphered that either. To her everlasting credit, she came to my house even though it was the dead of winter in Cache Valley. I know that was hard for her to do but I am so grateful she did. At Jeff’s urging, I also called my Bishop (L. Shirk – gotta get his name in here so I never forget it!) and asked if he could come over to give me a blessing. I could hardly talk on the phone and when he got there, my mom had to tell him what was wrong because I simply could not find the words. Bless him for putting on a shirt and tie and going out on such a bitter night there in Logan.

I don’t think I ever fully regained my voice that night – my mom finally went home around 2:00 a.m and I collapsed into bed shortly there after. I didn’t go to school for a day or two – it was just too much for me. Eventually, I was able to find some equilibrium again but ever since that night, it has never been the same between you and I.