I almost always knew I had an extra-ordinary life.
With every wonderful adventure, I knew very well that I was the ordinary part.
Just a regular man.
I felt trepidation after an adventure.
So, I feel trepidation now. Starting this journal of my last, greatest adventure.
Let me explain that before that day, I was a person that journeyed towards truth. And truth would reward me with wisdom. The right words to say when someone else was sad, or angry, or fearful.. desperate.
I had no idea that my travels would culminate for me. I thought the travels and events were about others. The others I helped.
Completely typical that I would travel to cities and find myself drawn to a library, or a museum, or a classic building. That was usually where I would find that person. The person I was going to help.
That day I met her. Your mother.
I was in sea of people in a famous building with a visiting display. Historical art that was to be returned to the country it belonged to.
Even though there was sea of people standing around, it felt like there was nothing there.
Nothing else in the room but me and your mother.
Standing afar in a large room.
Seeing each other for the first time.
I will tell you that she shone in the first moments. And she had an expression that stopped everything. A nice expression. Peaceful. Happy. Curious.
We stared at each other like time itself had no interest in being too close, too intrusive. Happy to let that moment sit undisturbed.