Thursday, September 16, 2010

Not riding the Same bus



There are so many things that we are learning that I never thought I would have to. All the different programs from Bright Starts, Champions, Alta Regional, etc, that we are participating in and meeting with. There are so many. We have had a lot of different appointments, meetings, and discussions with many different doctors and caretakers. And we have been very fortunate to love all of them. But on this particular day…I thought different.

“Let’s talk about School” Pat Davis shares from Alta Regional, Logan’s Coordinator. “When he’s ready he can go to school and can be picked up and dropped back off by a Charter bus…” She said a lot more right here…but I didn’t really hear much more. I heard that Logan would not be riding the same bus as Jada and Asher. I heard that Logan was not going to have that memory of riding on the same bus with his siblings as I did. I heard that my kids would be going in different directions.

I remember the bus rides like it was yesterday. The fight for the window seat, the placing of the bag at the end of the seat closest to the aisle so it would look like you were saving the seat, so no one would sit next to you. The sly moves to eat the leftovers from lunch so the bus driver couldn’t see. The window rolled down and the air blowing in your face thinking about the note you wish that boy hadn’t seen. The homework you would cram in so you could just play as soon as your feet hit the ground. The conversations and debates with the other less fortunate to not have a driver’s license like you. The complaining of the teachers assignments and their hair pieces that just don’t fit their heads. But the thing I remember most was riding with my sister.

Sandy was the most sweet, non confrontational person I’ve ever met. She was the Peace keeper. Never hurting a fly. And on the bus was the beginning of my first long fight. With tears in her eyes she begins to explain that someone had called her a name in school. Now mind you…this name was “dork”, although not an extremely upsetting horrible name…it hurt Sandy. And if you hurt her…you’ve messed with me. The girl happen to not only live in the same neighborhood as us…she road the same bus. Score! I was going to make sure that she knew who I was and that she would never pick on my sister again.

Walking up with confidence I calmly said, and with great fear behind my voice…”Hey…I’m Sandy’s sister, you called her a dork today, and if you do that again…you will mess with me, Got it?” She shook her head, and I confidently walked back to my seat, of course without the bus driver knowing I was up off the seat. And I felt good. She was protected and I did my job.

The next day we were loading on the bus and this rather intimidating large girl who was a grade older than me, came up to me. “I’m Rachel’s sister, the girl you said you were going to mess with…yeah…I’m her sister and if you mess with her…you mess with me, Got it?” The bus rides were never the same. This Junior would gather her friends tell jokes and snicker as they laughed at me. I would feel a paper ball hit me in the back of the head. But I could hold my own. It’s all part of memories. Sandy continued her bus rides and her conversations as if no one had ever called her a name. It was worth it, cause I did my job. I protected her. She didn’t have to worry.

Who is going to do that for Logan? I know Asher will be there for Jada. I know that my kids will do the same for each other. But I want Asher to be able to put an end to any harassing on his younger brother. That’s what brother do, right? These are the times it’s hard. The things you always dream about for your kids and their relationships with one another…you want that to be for all your kids, not just a couple. They aren’t going to ride the same bus. They aren’t going to go to the same school. They aren’t going to go to the same classes. They aren’t going to be playing the same sports. But…but, they are going to come home to the same house. They are going to experience the same love and attention. They are going to share the same memories of our vacations and holidays. They are going to know the same God that we serve. It’s all different. The things that are normal to most families becomes abnormal for us. But normal can be boring…repetitive…and forseen. This is not a forseen life…and we are okay with that. We are okay with that.

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