I love singing along to the radio, even if I don’t know all the lyrics yet.
Recently I was in the car with the kids singing along to Jake Owens’ song “Best thing Since Backroads.”
As I sang the lyric “you’re the best thing since backroads baby,” my 10 year old had a quizzical look in the backseat.
“Mom, what are backroads?”
“Let me show you.”
I don’t even remember where we were heading at the time, but my mind went on autopilot and turned up a small side street.
As we weaved down this small road I told them this was the route we took to my grandparents as a kid.
I quietly remembered trips with my grandpa to McDonalds after preschool and smiled.
Then we did a cut through road by their grandparents and I told them all the times Kevin and I drove that road together as high school sweethearts.
Suddenly, we were on a whole new tour of the town, the memories flooding back to me.
Bored of my detours and stories, my son concluded, “A backroad is basically a shortcut.”
Shortcut, yes. But even more than that, they are memories.
Backroads are shortcuts and memories.