Finally.

Thanks to Rascal Flatts and the Kennedy High School varsity show choir, strains of “Life is a Highway” can be caught wafting through our house at any given time, day or night. It’s like breaking wind. Everything’s quiet, then all of a sudden… “Who ‘Life is a Highwayed’?”

Oh, well. There are far worse songs that could launch an assault on my ears. Two years ago, everything was “Toxic”. No shit, Brit. Just ask my sad, queasy gut.

So I got no problem when the lyrics flying around Casa True are of the like:

Life’s like a road that you travel on
When there’s one day here and the next day gone
Somethimes you bend and sometimes you stand
Sometimes you turn your head to the wind
There’s a world outside ev’ry darkened door
Where blues won’t haunt you anymore
Where brave are free and lovers soar
Come ride with me to the distant shore
We won’t hesitate
Break down the garden’s gate
There’s not much time left today

Life is a highway
I wanna ride it all night long
If you’re going my way
I wanna drive it all night long
–Tom Cochran

(Courtesy of Lyrics OnDemand)

As Mr. “It’s not the destination; it’s the journey”, himself, how can I complain about that? Crap! My kids could, as Liam Neeson so aptly worried in LOVE, ACTUALLY, be injecting heroin into their eyeballs! Are they? Hell no! They’re rockin’ out to a flippin’ country band waxing on about “wax on, wax off”! About the discipline of hangin’ on through the tough stuff and the ever-present promise of a brighter tomorrow. If only you’re strong enough to keep your hand on the wheel. Keep it on the road.

Yeah. I can get behind that.

Because in this life, they know. We’ve all been down the road a piece. And easy it wasn’t. No stretch, by no stretch of the imagination. But everyone hung on. We kept it on the road. I am so proud of them. So proud of all of us.

And look at we are now. Blessed. With health. With happiness. With Robbye.

Especially with Robbye–the missing piece of our puzzle. Who’s been on a parallel road, with its own bumps and hazards. The break-your-axle kind. But she, too, kept it on the road. And my pride in her threatens to cause me to burst at any given moment.

And, so, here we are. We’ve gathered all our stuff. All our TRUE LIFE stuff up, and jammed it into the car. We all piled in. Plenty of snacks. iPods full up with the kickingest road tunes. And all singing, not always in unison, rarely in perfect harmony, but a chorus of angels never sounded sweeter.

“Life is a highway! I wanna ride it all night long!”

The ultimate family band.

And where does this lead us, TRUE LIFERS? Well, I’ll tell you where it leads me. Home.

And part of “home” is here. Paid for in sweat and elbow grease, and brought to you by my personal Funky Martha Stewart. After all these miles. I’m finally here. Forget the coffee shops.

I finally got my office. My own space. MINE!

And dammit, if it don’t work? In the past couple of weeks, I have been more productive than I have been..well..ever. And in that assessment, I am including the periods where I wrote my last, like, five or six scripts! Wow.

“There’s a world outside ev’ry darkened door
Where blues won’t haunt you anymore
Where brave are free and lovers soar”

Sure is.