I have been riding a school bus for 57 years...
Friday's field trip was perhaps my very last time
to climb those big steps and look for an empty seat.
When I mentioned it to hubby, he said,
"What... Will that make you sad?"
It wasn't about the uncomfortable straight-backed seats,
or the unpredictable temperatures (either too hot or too cold),
or the bumpy ride...
It was all about the deeply-woven school bus riding memories.
You see, my Daddy drove a school bus.
My earliest memories are from when I was four years old.
My mother went to Ladies Aide at our church...
so I got to ride my daddy's bus when he took the "big kids" home from school.
I sat in that first seat right behind the driver.
Some of those "big kids" would come to sit with me for a bit.
After he completed his last stop,
Daddy (a man of few words) would point to the glove box.
Inside, I would find one candy bar that he and I would share on our way home.
We kept that a secret, as I'm sure my mother rushed home from church to make dinner.
In those days, we all rode the bus to and from school every day.
We finished our homework...
We made lifelong friends.
I rode the bus until spring of my Senior year.
My parents got a new car, and let me drive their old car into town.
I'm pretty sure it was because I was in the play and they didn't want to come back to pick me up after practice!
My first years teaching, I rode the bus on several occasions.
I was one of our Cheerleading Advisors.
We traveled all over the state,
and many times we took a "Cheesebox".
Also, in my first years of teaching,
our budget also allowed us to take frequent field trips.
I will cherish the memories.
Thank you, everyone,
for the fabulous ride.