I'm getting closer to my home

When I was younger, after my parents were divorced, my dad adopted this little ritual with us. Sometimes we'd be in his station wagon, Brandon, Dad and me, coming home from Grandma's, or an errand, and as we started to get closer to the house, if a really great song came on the radio, dad would drive us around the block to listen to the end of the song. The ones that always got us: "Let it Be," the only Beatles song I've ever really loved; "House of the Rising Sun," which was kind of a joke between Dad and me, for a reason I don't really recall; "American Pie," and Dad would always talk about the story the song was telling; and the ultimate around-the-block song, Grand Funk Railroad's "I'm Your Captain (Closer to Home)." I thought about this ritual of ours this weekend, because by some sort of miracle, when I was coming home late in the night on both Friday and Saturday, as I got near my house, "American Pie" came on the radio. Twice! On both nights! I thought about driving around the block, but it wouldn't have been the same without my dad and Brandon. I will never be able to replicate how I felt then; Brandon and I would beg dad to drive around the block, and he wouldn't let on what his decision was, and then without warning we'd sail past the driveway and keep going. Dad always blasted the heater until it was so warm you thought you'd suffocate, and we'd sing and watch the familiar surroundings of our neighborhood roll past. I remember on nights like this that I never wanted to arrive back home and leave the car. I wanted us to keep driving and driving, listening to great music, warm and safe and protected and together. I miss that feeling. I miss the togetherness.