It’s true. Life is a highway, and a portion of mine has been spent on Interstate 35 from Dallas to Austin. Dallas holds the most memories, some so fresh I can remember particular smells or what I thought at the time. Some memories hit me unexpectedly, carrying me back twenty years or more.
Waco is midway between Dallas and Austin. We speed past the exit but I marvel at the obvious changes since I was a young college student. The interstate is lined with restaurants, Baylor’s impressive new stadium, construction everywhere, but still my eyes seek out those parts that were mine. The Brazos River. My dorm, Alexander Hall. Pat Neff, glowing green after a game day win.
I left little pieces of myself there, but we have no time to stop and visit. Not this time. Our daughter graduates from University of Texas Law School this afternoon. Her whole life has pointed to this moment. As a kid she was focused, centered, wise beyond her years. Austin is her place filled with her memories.
We never know. Lots of life, hopefully, and maybe someday I’ll be driving this highway again headed to my granddaughter’s graduation. And my daughter will feel as proud as I do right now.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
Rascal Flatts, Life is a Highway