Got just enough religion and a half tank of gas

You know what I love about road trips? You come back a changed person if you are the same when you return... you did it wrong.

New places,
new experiences,
new tastes and smells.

My favorite...different people.

The planning, and packing situating, and organizing all becomes worth it when you pile into your vehicle - a hot cup of home brewed coffee on your lap, the sun rising in your face. Followed by a day with miles behind you and the sun setting on your back as you have a cup of coffee from a random gas station you stopped to fill up at. The possibilities endless.

Life is lived in the small moments between the planned ones. I never remember the route we plan, the things we predetermined we would see... no, it is always the detours that took us in circles, or the best pie ever at the restaurant we HAD to stop at for a bathroom emergency. The brakes going out in the mountains (twice) or our fuel line coming off on our way up to the Black Hills..... yes these are the things that make a trip memorable.

Much like life my friends. It is the unplanned events that seem to be where the memories are. Those are the times you remember....

What unplanned memory will you make?

"Lost Highway"

In my rearview mirror
My life is getting clearer
The sunset sighs and slowly disappears
These trinkets once were treasure Life changes like the weather
You grow up, grow old or hit the road 'round here
So I drive, watching white lines passing by
With my plastic dashboard Jesus, waiting there to greet us

Hey, hey, I finally found my way Say goodbye to yesterday
Hit the gas there ain't no brakes on the lost highway
Yeah I'm busting loose, I'm letting go
Out on this open road
It's independence day on this lost highway

I don't know where I'm going
But I know where I've been
Now I'm afraid of going back again
So I drive, years and miles are flying by
And waiting there to great us
Is my plastic dashboard Jesus

Oh patron saint of lonely souls
To tell this boy which way to go
Guide the car, you got the keys
Farewell to mediocrity
Kicking off the cruise-control
And turning up the radio
Got just enough religion
And a half tank of gas come on, let's go

I finally found my way
Say goodbye to yesterday
Hit the gas there ain't no brakes on the lost highway
Yeah I'm busting loose, I'm letting go
Out on this open road
It's independence day on this lost highway

What about the lasts?

We keep track of the firsts. First steps, first words, up to first dates and beyond. What about the lasts? The last time we get to hold our son's hand before he is too cool to do so. The last time that you rock your sweet babe and sing to them. The last time we will see someone. How about the last time we see someone alive.

We are able to mark and date the firsts, but it is the lasts that are unknown.

As we journey out on our trip I do not mean to be morbid. Not in the least. But, we were picking up the last minute items this morning and as I walked into the store I realized I was holding the smallest boys' hands. Both of them. They had initiated it, and it gave me a little sentimental stir. For as I turned to see my two oldest a step behind and slightly sulky I know that this too shall pass, far too quickly.

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Well, we are off. I will be trying to check in when I can using Deb @ Sojourner 's computer. I won't be around to read and comment... I miss you guys already. Don't forget me while I'm gone.