A piece of me lives here...

When we’re kids, our parents have the luxury of creating traditions for us.  Most of mine were centered on holidays – which I’m sure is the case with most people.  As adults we get to create traditions around what we choose.  I never would have thought when I went to visit Amber in Seattle in 2002 that it would be the beginning of one of my most treasured traditions. 

She told me about this “place” that Dave Matthews plays – The Gorge. 

We got tickets to Fridays show, packed up the tent and left Seattle.  We were 19^th row, on the right of the stage.  I got to peek through the fence and see them leave the stage – I know there are pictures somewhere… but this was before I had a digital camera. 

Never could I have imagined then how special this place would become to me. 

Through the years, friends have come and gone, but one has remained steadfast in her friendship with me, and our love of this place, this weekend – Holly.

We’ve grown up together in this “campground” on the Columbia River.  We’ve met new friends while within it’s confines.  We’ve gotten lost from one another, only to find each another on the walk back.  We’ve been reunited with cameras and friends from Oregon.  We’ve made rules, and broke them.  We’ve withstood rain, wind and scorching sun.  We’ve danced, laughed and drank teeny tiny shots of Goldschlagger.  Holly is my soul sister.  One who will always get me.  One who holds one of the most special places in my heart because she’s been a part of all of this with me. 

I seem out of sorts this week – usually by now, I’d be sitting with Amy on a deck drinking a Miller Light.  I’d probably be meeting Amber in the morning for breakfast.  And spending Thursday afternoon getting the camping gear together so that we’d be ready to rock on Friday morning.  I’d pick her up late on Thursday evening.  We’d crash at Amy’s… and then bright and early Friday morning, take the last shower for the weekend, load the car… hit up Target and QFC…and the liquor store.  We always bought too much.  Of everything. 

Last night when I went to bed, I smiled at the memories I have at the Gorge.  I remember the silly times, the funny times.  Dance offs, drinking games, meeting the neighbors, tent building contests, truffles and monster cans.  I laughed at the grab-bags, the wind, the walk to the venue and the stumbling back, the turkey sandwiches and the shot guns. 

I’m so thankful for all who’ve been a part of this – you’ve shaped who I am.  I’m honored to have you in my life – then and now.  This place wouldn’t be the same without having all of you.  I know that our lives keep us in distant corners of America, but I know if ANY of us needed ANYthing, we’d all be there.  And I hope that no matter how old we get, and no matter how loud and crazy those kids get that we find time to keep the tradition alive.  I love you all more than you know.  And wish you nothing but the best with your growing families, new relationships, continued love and adoration of your spouses.  I wish you health and happiness - until we all meet again.  I can’t wait until I see your faces and scream with excitement as I fiercely hug you all, and watch the time from the last time melt away, until it seems like it was just yesterday we'd last seen one another.  Until then, hugs, love and memories!  Much, much love!  

Typical.

 The first year we let anyone else participate.  Well deserved for these two!

 Couldn't love them much more than I do!

 Why it all began

 Home.  A little bit of my heart lives here.

 Sometimes you need a little help from your friend.

 Our first year together.

 Traditions begin.

 Grab. Bag.

 If I could pick brothers - These would be 4 of mine.

 Sometimes even the all-stars are on the lawn, with their bag of wine.

 I laugh every time I see this picture.  Still.

 I want to walk into this picture, and hug you all... once more.  Perfect 3rd night.  

 Yup.  I'm gonna be a classy wife.

 No words.

 Initiation.

 Just your average Saturday.

 The beginning of something amazing.