In 1987, my son graduated his basic training at Fort Benning, Georgia. My daughter was in her senior year in high school... I think. Or maybe it was her junior year.
I so wanted to see my son's ceremony; Cliff hates to travel long distances. I don't drive, never did. But my daughter had her driver's license and loved to drive.
So she and I set off. I'll never forget that time, and I'm so thankful Rachel and I went.
It's a long, long trip back home from Columbus, Georgia, but Rachel was determined to get back as expediently as possible. I told her to stop the minute she got tired, and we'd get a motel.
She was wide awake until we hit St. Louis. By then she started getting sleepy, but we were in Missouri; and she didn't intend to stop at that point. It was only four hours to home.
Somewhere between St. Louis and Kansas City, this song came on the radio; and Rachel, trying to stay awake, said, "Come on, Mom; let's sing along." Or something like that.
So every time I hear this song, I get teary-eyed remembering a time that is precious to me, and would be totally lost, had not my daughter made me stop and listen to a song with which I wasn't even familiar.
I wouldn't take half-a-million dollars for the memory.
Oh, and by the way; Rachel's husband, Kevin, can tell you the whole history of Lionel Ritchie and the names of every group he was ever associated with.
You can play this one at my funeral; it's so tied up with fond memories of both my children.