You know who you are

So I recently went to a concert, a show, we lovingly call it. A Grateful Dead cover band called Dark Star Orchestra. It's not the first time I've seen them, and certainly won't be the last, but it was most definitely their best yet. It was such a celebration -- of music (obviously), of fun, of love, of life, of happiness and joy, but most of all of good memories (summers in Old Blue) and good friends (my husband most of all).

Close to the same time last week (coincidence? you know the answer), I stumbled upon a comment from an old friend, and realized how much I missed him, missed laughing with him, missed just talking and getting the latest on how his three girls were, how happy he was in general. Before any of my other friends, this friend was the one who really got it when I first told him about Jim -- he's a pilot? No way!! And plays the drums? You're kidding!! Is sooo into music? He's perfect for you.... I will never forget that feeling of overwhelming love for this old friend as I heard his enthusiasm and sheer, untarnished, unprompted happiness blast its way over the phone. He just knew. He could feel my happiness and love. And not only did he celebrate with me about it (about Jim), he told me, with his words and honesty and heart.

Which brings me back to the show last weekend. I never grew up a huge GD fan, but I did grow up as a huge music fan, influenced and open to whatever, wherever by my close-knit circle of music-obsessed friends. It started with the Fixx and Rush. The Replacements and the Alarm followed in college, then Pearl Jam and DMB in the years after that. Along came Jim, and with him, my love and appreciation for all things Phish, Grateful Dead and giant, joyful music festivals. Music has been such a part of my life -- a way of life, really -- and no surprise that at least in that realm of things, nothing has changed yet.

So, the show. It was about good times. It was about love. It was about throwing your arms in the air cuz you just couldn't help it you were so filled with happiness -- for those immediately around you as well as those who live in your heart. It was about breaking out in song (come on, who can resist belting out Hey Jude from the bottom of their lungs/heart/soul?). It was about the uncontrollable smile that you just couldn't keep off your face -- and the same one you saw on everyone else's. It was about this amazing life Jim and I have together, forged in music, supported by love, fueled by fun and light and laughter. And it reminded me of all the friends in my life. The ones who have come and gone. The ones who helped shape me and grow with me and move with me. The ones who celebrated with me when Jim came into my life, and the ones who celebrate with me still. The new ones that I fell in love with as part of Jim's extended family, and the ones I had to let go as they grew extended families of their own. The ones I still dream about when I hear The Spirit of '76. The ones I thought of when DSO played Franklin's Tower. The ones I miss. The ones I still get to see and have fun with even though so many years have passed. The ones that made me cry and laugh and smile and live and become this version of me -- they entered my heart as the band closed the show with Brokedown Palace... Fare you well, fare you well, I love you more than words can tell...

So here's to all of you, my friends. You know who you are, and why I love you so.