A Special Friendship

There are lots of things to feel guilty for when you’re a mother: not spending enough time with your kids, not doing as thorough a job at work as you’d like, not taking time to nurture your friendships, not devoting enough undivided attention to your spouse…such is life when you’re a mom I guess.

A constant source of guilt for me these past few years is that of Toby’s long bus ride.  Because we live “in the red zone” Toby has a 1 hour bus ride to and from school.  (Sometimes longer in the winter!) When I first heard this I decided on the spot that I would drive him in to school every day.  He has never once had to take the bus twice in one day.   After a few weeks of JK, hearing his sad lamentations about his long bus ride, and often having to carry my sleeping boy off the bus some evenings, I made it my mission to also try to pick him up on Tuesdays and Fridays.  It mitigated the problem somewhat but greatly complicated my own life and provided the potential for extreme guilt when I was unexpectedly delayed at work on a precious Tuesday or a Friday.

This year, mature enough not to sleep on the bus anymore, yet having developed the logistical skills to compound my guilt, he found other problems with the bus ride – too hot, too cold, too boring, too long.  Our only attempt at an after school playdate this year failed miserably after his BFF announced that he bus ride was TOO LONG and he was never coming over again.

But we must weather the storm if we want to see the rainbows.

As a guilt-ridden mother I heard only the pathetic lamentations.  It took me a while to pick up on the hints that Toby was also giving me about something good that was emerging from his arduous bus rides. 

My first hint came at Christmas time when Toby looked disgustedly at all the Christmas gift cards I had purchased  – nanny, teacher, day care worker, doctor etc.

“Um…Mommy…AREN’T you FORGETTING someone???”

Oh, shit, please, NO…There was NO WAY I was forgetting someone; I had wrecked my brains making sure I had everyone covered.

“What about PAUL…” he left the sentence hanging awaiting that joyful moment when I realized how right he was to have pointed out my gross misjudgement in overlooking…PAUL…the mysterious man I had never even heard of.

Every bad thought in the world went through my head as I tentatively asked who in the world this PAUL was…??

“Um…my BUS DRIVER, obviously!!”

(Yes, go ahead and read it that way - when correcting his mother, my 6 year old speaks like a teenager)

I was more prepared  the second time around when this exact same conversation happened just before Valentines day and I had mistakenly put aside the biggest Valentine for Mrs Shields and ONCE AGAIN overlooked poor Paul.

 Paul – the 65 year old (at least) dude who drives Toby home every day and gruffly waves to me from beneath his ball cap when I wait to greet Toby from the bus – was the (joyful?) recipient of the lone SPECIAL valentine that comes in the Walmart 28 pack of Valentines.  It was also the only card that Toby wrote a special message on.

“Thank you, Paul

Love,

Toby”

Coming from him, it was indeed special.  And so I questioned him a bit about it.  I told him that it was a very nice card he had made for Paul and asked him what he was thinking him for.

“For talking to me.”  was his quiet answer.

As it turns out there’s a rule on Toby’s bus that you can’t talk to the bus driver.  But every day after the last kid is dropped off and it’s just Toby and Paul left on the bus Paul will say to Toby, “Ok, Toby, come on down and talk to me” and the two of them will “chat” for the rest of the ride home.  Toby informed me that his talks with Paul on the bus are sometimes his favourite times of the day.

I asked him what they talked about.

“Oh you know, Mom…the usual stuff.”

I most certainly do NOT know what the usual conversation topics are when an elderly bus driver to talks to a young chatterbox kindergarten student. 

“Well…usually Paul will tell me about the weather.  And I tell him just little stuff.  Like how our house is laid out and how far my bedroom is from you guys.  And how I have to walk down the hall and up the stairs to get to you.  Or about the score in the hockey game last night.”

I was starting to get the gist of it…what Toby had found on his long bus rides home was the simplicity of an easy friendship.  In the past 2 years I had done nothing more that wave from our porch to the old man in the driver’s seat, not realizing the special place he has in Toby’s heart or the important role he has had in easing one of my major mommy anxieties.

And so it came as no surprise to me (but the irony was not lost on me either) that Toby’s immediate reaction to the news of our impending move into town was that of sadness, “Aw, REALLY?  Mom…you know what I’m going to miss the MOST?  My bus ride…”

As the end of Toby’s final year in kindergarten comes to a close I have a lot to be thankful for and a lot of presents to buy.  But this time I am well prepared and will definitely NOT be leaving Paul out.  In fact, I know he’ll be getting an extra special Thank you card…from both of us, this time.