This is not a “poor me” post. It’s above love. And friends. And REDheads! And what you and Sammy Hagar mean to me.

Ever since my unexpected out-of-body experience during one of Sammy’s shows in Cabo in 2003, which I wrote about in my book, "Dance of the Electric Hummingbird," my husband have been attending Sammy’s birthday bash concerts in Cabo. And ever since Cabo Wabo opened in 2004 in South Lake Tahoe, we’ve been there to celebrate Cinco de Mayo with Sammy and all of you, except for this year.

As some of you know, I had extensive surgery on my foot and ankle last year. If I said it’s been a tough recovery, that would be a vast understatement. I’ve been in and out of casts, braces, walkers, crutches, knee scooters and wheelchairs. All of these things gave me a new respect for those who are forced to live that way permanently so I am sincerely grateful for the ability to be able to walk at all.

I still have trouble standing for more than about an hour before the pain and swelling set in. Because of that, I wasn’t able to attend any of Sammy’s shows this year. And for two years prior, any shows I was lucky enough to attend were difficult for me, to say the least.

I do not take any of this for granted. I realize there are many who have never attended a live show, and I deeply appreciate the opportunities with which I’ve been blessed.

My husband and I had planned on going to Cabo this year, with me hoping to find a place to lean, at least for a little while, during the one show we were lucky enough to get tickets for, but Hurricane Odile had other intentions. As far as I know, there were no deaths reported, but it was the worst hurricane in history to ever hit the Baja peninsula.

So when Sammy canceled his shows in Cabo and announced the Vegas venue, I knew that no matter how much I wanted to, (and I wanted to BAD) I wouldn’t be able to stand for hours on the concrete in that parking lot.

My friends texted me, called me, emailed me, and sent messages on Facebook telling me that I should go. Pretty much everyone I knew was going, so I wracked my brain trying to figure out a way to make it happen. But it wasn’t meant to be.

The day of the show, some of my friends texted me, telling me that they missed me and that they wished I was there with them. When someone takes the time to do that, it really makes you feel loved. REDheads are incredible people.

That night, while most of my REDhead friends were getting ready for the concert, my son and I went out to dinner here in Colorado. I was pining to be in Vegas, and I told my son about it. (My husband was out of town at the time.) He said, “Mom, it’s just the same old songs you’ve heard a million times. The same performers. The same people. It’s not like you’re missing something you’ve never seen before!”

And I knew he was right about part of it. It’s true that even though Sammy has a repertoire of thousands of songs and I’ve heard them all—and although he tries—there isn’t a whole lot Sam can do differently when he performs them.

However, the next morning when I looked online, I saw how those who attended were posting photos and videos and sharing the experience with those of us who couldn’t be there. Some even tagged me in them and mentioned my name. It made me recall how our friends, who were at the Tahoe shows this past May, texted us with photos of themselves holding a sign with our names on it and saying how much they missed my husband and me.

And I began to think about how many times I’ve seen REDheads hauling around photos of their friends who weren’t able to attend a certain concert, calling them “Flat (Insert Name)” as a way to include them, or buying T-shirts or memorabilia for their friends and sending them as surprises in the mail.

And this is what I’m getting at—all of this means more to me than you know. I realize this sounds mushy and perhaps phony, but believe me, it isn’t. It’s sincere.

It’s the sheer unselfish sharing that REDheads are willing to do for one another that just takes my breath away; that you take the time to format your photos and videos so that you can share them online. I am not cynical enough to think that some do it for commercial purposes; I’m interpreting it as an unselfish desire to share with the rest of us.

I really missed seeing Sammy this year, sure, but what I missed most of all, was what this is really all about—the friends I’ve made because of Sammy. If it hadn’t been for him, I would have missed out on some of the best friends I have ever known. We travel out-of-state to visit each other, to support each other, even if it’s not for something Sammy-related. We donate our time, our money and our goods to help the people of Cabo recover from hurricanes and to help those who are living in poverty—without question. Sammy does this as well—with his charities.

REDheads are people I would have loved even if I hadn’t met you at a Sammy show. You are people I am honored to call my friends. You have supported me by buying my book, have given me homemade T-shirts, framed photos, CDs, blinged-out visors, hoodies, tank tops, shopping bags, jewelry and more. These are things you took the time to make and I cherish each and every one of them because I cherish each and every one of you.

And Sammy’s crew are just as incredible—the things they have done for me, and for many of you as well—it just blows my mind. I’ve never seen anything like it.

Not to mention Sammy, himself. I won’t even go there; it would take another book to explain all the ways he has been so very kind to me, and to many of you as well. Most of you already know though—it’s all in my book.

Okay, so now I guess I am getting mushy. Sorry. No, I’m not.

I’m proud to call myself a REDhead. I’m honored to be included in this amazing group of people. Over the years, I’ve become so very close to you that I can’t imagine the rest of my life without you in it.

Being a REDhead isn’t about the color of your hair. It isn’t about who you know or what you do for a living or how many shows you’ve attended. It’s not about where you live, how many T-shirts, CDs or posters you’ve collected. It isn’t about who has the most tattoos or the most photos with rock stars. It’s about the people. It’s about love. It’s about being there for others—and not just for fellow REDheads; it’s about being there for whomever needs help, support, reassurance, guidance and love.

And that, right there, my friends, is what life is all about. Thank you for being such an important part of my life. I just wanted you to know.