Tomorrow, she will pull into the driveway. She will be at home. In our house. The one that we grew up in.
And she will show her friends. Show them how we live. What it's like. They will understand her better. Understand us.
She will drive and drive and drive. Knowing her, she will sing and sing and sing. She will drive until she sees the haunts of her past. The place where she went to school, played soccer, hung out with her friends, lived, loved, grew up. She will be home. Her bed, her room, her past, her roots.
Then there is Oxford. She will be back in her place. Our place. The one that she shared with me. It will be the same; it never changes. But it will be so different now. She won't be staying here this time. She will go back to the midwest, to the big city.
So this weekend, after the long road home, she will love Oxford and be happy. Although she won't be here for that long, it will be worth it. It will be home, and it will be happy to see her. We all will.
Keep driving. We want you home.
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