As Tom Cochrane’s “Life Is a Highway” plays on the car radio, my children are nestled in the backseat of our well-loved 2005 Honda Accord. I crank up the volume, reminding them that they recognize this song from the beloved movie Cars, which I personally adored. I don’t wait for their replies, but instead, I increase the volume even more.
With the radio blasting at its peak and my speed hitting 45 in a 35 mph zone, I find myself teetering on the edge of my middle-aged existence, yearning to push the gas pedal even harder. It feels exhilarating to feel youthful once again.
Flashback to 1992—I’m a college senior at Penn State, reveling in a beautiful March day. Graduation is just around the corner, and job prospects are non-existent. Yet somehow, I feel free. Weeks prior, I had turned down a formal job interview because I simply wasn’t interested; I was lost in my own world of possibilities.
I’m filled with a sense of hope, uncertainty looming in the background, but I embrace the feeling of being young and having time on my side. Everything will unfold in due time.
“Life’s like a road that you travel on, when there’s one day here and the next day gone,” the lyrics echo as my friend Jake proposes an adventure on his motorcycle. Without a license to ride, I still climb on the back, gripping the straps tightly as we leave the gravel road behind.
Thirty minutes later, we find ourselves basking in the sun, sipping Cokes and sharing dreams about the future. The familiar intro of “Life Is a Highway” plays from the boombox, and I revel in the moment.
But back in the present, my 8-year-old son, Max, interrupts my reverie, “It’s too loud.”
“What?” I reply, slightly taken aback.
“Please turn it down. It’s too loud.”
“But you like this song, don’t you?”
“It sounds different,” he retorts.
I consider explaining how the Cars version was modified and sung by someone else, but I hold back. Instead, I smile at Max and glance at my other son, Leo, who is covering his ears.
I lower the volume to a more manageable level and slow down to the speed limit. The warmth of the sun envelops me, and I take a moment to breathe. A mental checklist starts to form: assist the boys with homework, prepare dinner, send out inquiries, get some exercise, wash the dishes, prepare snacks, and finally, tuck them in for the night. So much to do, yet so little time.
I press the accelerator once more, eager to return home.
Life is indeed a journey, and I’m determined to embrace every moment of it.
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Summary
This narrative reflects on the journey of life, blending nostalgic memories of youth with the responsibilities of parenthood. The author reminisces about carefree college days while navigating the complexities of modern parenting, emphasizing the importance of cherishing each moment.