The feeling of losing control is terrifying.  When we lose control of a relationship, a situation, our thoughts.  There's nothing quite like it.   Right now.  I've lost control.  I'm in this desperate feeling of in between.

 

Everything slowed down as my hands gripped and cranked the wheel to the right, away from the truck, our mirrors collided like two waves crashing into each other, glass shattered and cracked.  The mirror was torn from my car like a leaf gets blown from a tree in autumn, an easy break.  My car slides to a halt and the truck swerves into the breakdown lane on the other side.  The driver clamors out of the truck, "You OK?", he calls out.  "Yeah, I respond,". I think my pride was hurt more than anything else. "What happened?" he asked.  What did happen, where was I?  Did I remember that I was actually driving a two ton ball of metal at sixty miles an hour?  I shook my head, "I'm sorry, I'm in the middle of something and just drifted into the other lane."  I wiped the rain from my face and looked into his eyes.  The adrenaline slowing down in both our bodies.  "OK," he said.  "Well, is there anything I can do?"  I look out at the water, a boat slowly drifts between the waves, it seems lost at sea.  "I don't think so." I reply.  "This is something I need to take care of myself."  "Stay safe and please be careful." He says, and walks away giving me a wave. "Don't worry about the mirror, it's on me this time."  I think of the waitress at the diner, her goodness.  I think of this truck driver, his goodness, kindness.   

 

The rain stops, the darkness of the storm cracks with the sun shining through a sliver in the clouds.  Sometimes we need to break something in order to get back on the right road.  To snap us back into place.  Make us see things from a different perspective.  Before I get back in the car, I wait.  I think.  I hear a small voice calling out to me. It's my sons voice.  He's 4 years old again and he's smiling, holding my hand and looking up into my eyes.  I'm his father, no one else in the world compares to me at this moment in his life.  That was so many years ago.  I shake my head and wipe a tear from my eye.  I miss those days. I miss those moments when we were together.  There has to be a way to right this wrong.  There has to. I get back into the car and start the engine and shift into gear....

 

 

 

Hope you enjoy this one as much as I do.

There's comes a point in a long drive where you settle in, you realize that there's no stopping the drive and you get comfortable and let the car do the work.  Defenses down.  Your mind starts to wander.  I was very conscious of the drive since the incident with the truck but at about 250 miles in, i started to get comfortable and started to let my mind relax a little.

 

Years ago, when we were first married, i remember how everything was so focused on us.  On the two of us.  Her name is Sarah, she meant and still means the world to me.  Our journey is on two different roads right now and this trip is hopefully going to allow them to intersect.  I remember a few years in, we started to drift.  Actually, I started to drift.  She was never the problem here.  My work really took a toll on things and I started drifting.  I started loving work more than loving our time together.  I was never unfaithful but I started taking advantage of her and the fact that she'd always be there.  

 

I remember one evening, after a long argument she just ended the conversation by saying "Why, Tom, why won't you love me like I love you.  I feel like I'm second to everything".  She was right.  I was addicted to work. I was addicted to the rush of closing a deal, the sounds of the office, the fine dinners, the trips, all of it.  I was addicted to it and didn't even see the floor falling out below me.  

She left, just 3 months ago, took our two beautiful kids and told me it was time for a change.  We still talk on the phone but her move to Arizona has changed things.  I stupidly let her go, not that I had a choice.  I told her I just needed to finish a few things here in New York and then I would join them.  One week turned to four, four to eight and the road between us kept getting longer and longer.  

 

I continue on I70 towards St. Louis. The car is pulling to the right, trying to pull me off the road.  I suddenly hear what sounds like a gunshot and feel the wheel jerk hard to the right, a harsh flapping sound fills my head and i swerve into the breakdown lane.  I jump out.  A complete blow out.  The tire.  My life.  The irony in all of it.  I hear thunder again in the distance. "Great".

 

 

When we were recording this one we wanted it to get soulful, to feel like a timeless, old soul ballad with the singer just pleading for his life that his love would come back to him.  Scotty started playing that great piano intro and everything just kind of fell into place.  We got to the end and i said, hey, let's bring it all back again.  So, you get that great outro chorus with the choir.  So so good.  I loved having the choir there. They sang on this song, Don't Give Up On Me and There Is Hope.  Such amazing singers!  Harmonies, everything, just incredible.  

 

Hope you love this one!