You think that the goal is to be over there, and we say the goal is the journey over there; the goal is the fun you have along the way on your way to over there. ~Abraham

Daddy driving a Studebaker, later a Buick three girls in the back seat,
Mother beside him. When “Are we there yets” grew old,
old “I spy” and “Twenty Questions” had run their course,
we sang. “Skidamarink a dink a dink,
Skidamarink a doo, I love you.” “You are my sunshine,
my only sunshine.” “When you wore a tulip, a sweet yellow tulip
And I wore a big red rose…” with Daddy’s basso “a big red rose…”
Some of my sweetest childhood hours were road trips,
the getting there. I never thought the process could be fun
in reaching a life of recovery. But some magic number on the scales
or tape measure cannot replace the intrinsic joy of day after day of serenity, of living in a happy family,  my family of choice.