Let me tell you a story.
A story of friends, through thick and thin, through decades and distance, through love and life. We started together, added and subtracted from our number, and moved apart with the ebb and flow of careers, celebrations and circumstances.
A story of coming together more often than drifting apart. A story of parades and floats, of wine and festivals, of the elastic bond that keeps us together.
A story of tears and laughter. A story of our personal time machines, where memories take us backward in time and dreams propel us forward.
This year, two events collide on one day. During the Soltice Parade, look for the TARDIS, complete with The Doctor atop the structure. If you have an extra bottle of water, find the small slit in the side about eye level and press the bottle through, and clap when it goes by.
Later that afternoon, we'll be enjoying the peacful surrounds of the Museum of Natural History, complete with wine and food. We will regale each other with stories of our lives since we last saw each other, catch up with our rapidly moving present and plan for the future that awaits us.
Once again I am fortunate to be one with the group: meeting at the appointed side street for final assembly, eventually making our way up State Street with the parade, then heading for Mission Canyon and an afternoon of more fun and companionship. As with last year, I can tell my compatriots in crime, my longest lasting friends, my past and future companions, that I love each and every one of them myself.
Let me tell you a story. Because, in the end, we're all stories. And we are making it a good one.
