February 2, 2009 Monday Morning Bus Stop Thoughts
You just never know when you’ll hear something that will change your perspective. Mornings are quite the sprint for lack of a better metaphor before coffee kicks in. Rachel was up lots in the night coughing and Dave and I did the…. “Who should call off” debate. Rachel proved us both wrong and our tough little gal with a little of cough syrup said “I’m going – I’m not missing school today!” Yeah, she IS my daughter 😉
So we launched into hyperdrive with 30 minutes to go. Lunch – clothes – SOCKs from the overflowing bin of socks waiting to be matched. Backpack – sweatshirt – taming those curly locks. We all piled into the car, said blessings and were off.
As my sweet babies boarded the bus (yes even my 11 year old is my baby), I stood with the other bus stop parents. We watched 2 kids – older – probably 4th graders at least – pile out of a suburban with extra bags. They were having trouble carrying all their stuff – an extra backpack between the 2 of them and some milk containers they kept dropping. Please keep in mind we have a good 25+ kids at our bus stop – so boarding is a relatively slow process, much to the chagrin of the waiting morning commuters.
I turned to the other parents and we all lamented the poor kids juggling too much stuff and feeling the typical Monday blues a little more than usual with the loss of the Arizona Cardinals when one dad said… that is the little girl who’s mom had breast cancer. Her mom died yesterday. Yesterday. Wow. Our house was sad about the Cardinals losing. How trite. That little girl had spent the night with neighbors probably because her dad was with her mom or grieving or whatever happens when a spouse dies. Her mom died. She spent the day with neighbors. No matter how long the battle of cancer – no matter how much she would have been prepared for the loss, the loss would leave a hole… always.
I watched the 2 kids get on the bus. My own Monday morning chaos brought to a hault. It shouldn’t be so hard to be a kid. Once again I’m reminded no matter how hard we think our own journey is, there most likely is always someone else who needs us to be strong and offer support because their journey may be even harder.
No doubt that mom is in a better place today. Cancer is a monster. My hope is that her little girl will have lots of love – from people she knows and even from people she doesn’t. Life is hard. It just shouldn’t be that hard to be a kid. Blessings on her. Blessings on all of us on this Monday morning.
- 3 comments
- Posted under family, grow up, kids, mondays
Permalink #
Crighton
said
It’s those moments that remind us of what is truly important. I have a lot that I can complain about. People tell me that I have been through too much this last year. But, when I look at what some others have been through, I realize that I have it pretty good. The trick is, to be grateful for what I do have, and not minimize my pain. Just because I have a headache and someone else has a migraine, does not mean that my headache doesn’t suck. I still need to acknowledge it and take appropriate action. But hearing stories gives me perspective.
I can use some perspective today. 🙂
Permalink #
bigd flanagan
said
Wow…..whats a Superbowl? These kids have too much to deal with for this adult to comprehend. As you have provided me with additional background information, I can say with no hesitation: I would take these two kids in in a heartbeat .
Our society is drunk with its disposable attitude. Tired of this? Get rid of it. Get another one….It sickens me. Its pure cowardice and lack of problem solving skills.
But when something is taken…just incomprehensible. A little girl goes to school on the day after her mother died. She’ll never have those Mom-Daughter talks about clothes, boys, dreams. Gone, forever gone. Just nuts and sad………
Permalink #
Parker
said
Oh my! Glad I didn’t read this yesterday. My sleep-deprived mind would have gone off the deep end. As a survivor of a harsh and painful childhood when I see wee ones hurting or in pain from whatever, all I want to do is wrap them in my arms and take them and help the hurt to go away and let them have a more normal childhood.