I was on vacation this past weekend.  Tony and I put on our brave little toaster faces and boarded an airplane.  We each coach each other through the parts we don’t like.  My dislike is take-off because of how violently you’re thrust  into thin air.  After that I’m pretty cool.  His Achilles heel is landing, although that confuses me because my logic is “closer to the ground” = happy, skippy, sis-boom-bah!

The point of our travel was to meet up with my parents in Santa Fe, where my brother and his girlfriend reside, spend a day or two eating nothing but green chiles, and then drive up to Boulder, Colorado for my cousin Margaret’s wedding.  The entire trip was a blast.  Santa Fe’s food was excellent.  The art was magical.  The trip up to Boulder was beautiful, if not a little nerve-wrecking driving with my father who has no qualms about passing slower cars on big mountain cliff roads.  My stomach might still be at the bottom of one of those drops.  Boulder was fantastic, too.  In all honesty, I was always the skeptic who eye-rolled anytime someone would bring up how “uber-cool” Boulder was.  Ask anyone who lives there and you’d think it was the center of the universe.  Yeah, yeah, yeah, we get it.  But, seriously, guys.  They’re right.  I’m a full-blown, hallelujah-shouting believer.  And maybe a new resident in the future.  One never knows…

The wedding was beautiful and tearful and full of love.  It’s the first wedding I’ve been to after my own and I was asked a few times if I missed being the bride.  Yeah, I do.  But, on the other hand, it was so nice to sit back and enjoy a wedding without the responsibilities that go along with it.  At one point I watched as Beau and Margaret finally met up after doing the rounds and Beau mentioned how he only had one beer because he was so busy talking to people.  Tony and I took one look at each other and laughed.  That was the theme of the night at ours.  Because it was a Sunday night, the wedding ended early, but the whole crew, in fancy wedding garb, took a trip over to the Catacombs, a divy, cave-like bar, and played pool, drank beer and caught up with people we haven’t seen in forever.  All in all, it was a great night and Margaret and Beau sure know how to throw a great party!

The way home to Santa Fe on Monday was reminiscent of family car rides from back in the day.  My brother Kyle wouldn’t stop touching me, until finally I had to get dad involved, which really meant mom took over and started scolding.  Tony sat in the back the whole way like a trooper.  The little squabbles and arguments over which one of us was the Golden Child make me smile as I’m typing this.  By the way, we all know it’s you, Kyle.  Even I had to admit, if I were the parent, I’d choose you, too.   

My cousin Olivia said it best when she gave her Maid of Honor speech at the wedding.  Our lives our shaped by stories.  That’s what makes family.  And when it was time to say goodbye on Tuesday, amidst the tears and general “blah” feeling of having to leave my brother and my parents, I also felt like I had a few extra little stories from this vacation tucked away in my pocket.

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