The moment I became happy

     It really was just a single moment, like magic!  I know that I've actually put in a bunch of work towards this and it really wasn't some miraculous bolt of lightening or anything, but when it happened it was amazing.

     It was my dad's 66th birthday and he got us all free tickets to go see an Eagles tribute band at the Ste. Michelle Winery in Woodinville.  I love my dad, and I was eager to spend time with the family celebrating his birthday.  It was a hot day in August and Brennan and I were meeting Dad and Sherri at the already packed venue.  I didn't have much time to change and so I ended up wearing the clothes I had on all day: elastic waisted sports shorts and a t-shirt I got from running a 5k.  Plus my hiking sandals and a baseball cap.  Not what you would call a styling outfit but so comfortable that I just didn't care.

     In fact I think that whole night was all about not caring.  It was a beautiful sunny early evening at a gorgeous winery.  I had wine.  I had my awesome family.  There was an hilarious drunken haze in the air and all of the middle aged (read: the entire crowd) concert goers were three sheets to the wind and getting awfully chummy.  Dad had already made friends with our entire section by the time we got there.  Everyone was happy and mellow.

     And then the band started.  Now, I did not have high hopes for this band.  When I think of tribute or cover bands, I think of a second rate, cheese-fest that pales in comparison to the real thing.  But these guys were AWESOME!  They were note-for-note identical to the Eagles and who doesn't LOVE the Eagles?!  From the very first song I just wanted to dance.  Dad and I were some of the first people on the dance floor and from that moment I just let go.

     I hadn't danced in...well...years I think.  Something in me--the wine, the sunshine, the cabal-frenzied middle agers, the comfortable I-don't-freakin'-care-what-people-think-of-me clothes, the night off from kids air of freedom--made me just dance like a wild and carefree dork.  It felt a-maaaazzzinggg.

     It was a few songs into the Hotel California album that it happened.  I was singing at the top of my lungs, dancing like it didn't matter, and feeling so good, and I felt a physical sensation on my chest.  Like a bolt being removed from my sternum.  Remember in Star Wars episode IV when R2D2 cons Luke into removing his restraining bolt and then hightails it to find Obi Wan Kenobi?  (If you don't, shame on you).  Well, that's what it felt like.  My restraining bolt had been removed.  I felt free to be happy for the first time in my entire life.

     I fully expected this new feeling of freedom to wane since every other time I've had a similar epiphany it has only lasted a few weeks at most.  But I'm still going strong.  Not every moment of every day, but for the most part this wonderful lightness has prevailed and I think it's here to stay.  Now I'm in maintenance mode and blogging and facebooking have kept it going.

     And as an added piece of joyous kismet, Star Wars just came on the TV while I'm writing this at the EXACT SCENE WHERE R2'S BOLT IS REMOVED!!!!!  R2D2 is cheering me on.  :)