It is a harrowing experience, daily to catch the bus. We have affectionately referred to the time as the shotput event. Daily we must throw the boys onto the bus and the winner is called the shot put champion.
I won the shot-put event this morning in spite of myself. Winning has its own glory. The conversations at the bus stop with the amazing minds of the future a more priceless than the biggest trophy given by the most wonderful person. I am thinking of Mr. Rooney. His gruffness, would make it all the more amazing to have won the tournament. He had absolutely no frills to him. He had no compliments and so when the winning happened and he gave the trophy, it was a feeling of pride that there were no words for. We got many of our trophies from his hands. Some broke and some stayed the test of time in a busy family, but this morning’s win is greater.
We talked about street crossing and how to look. We talked about peripheral vision and how to pass the ball on the basketball court. We talked about the water cycle and dozens of little conversations amixed them. Children seem the closest to eternity that there can be(they jump in conversation across time and subject, with no seams). They seem to be able to talk about anything at length, with absolutely no knowledge, or a very limited knowledge of the subject.
That was my trophy this morning. To see their faces and their rude expressions to the bus driver will be the topic for days to come, I am sure. I am sure that I didn’t raise those hooligans who got on the bus and didn’t say Good morning, or even look at the bus driver. Hooligans, I say. This must be stopped. I win. I got outside and saw them to the bus and stole the title from my predecessor, Elyse. She is a much better woman for stealing my gold, morning by morning.
To know and acknowledge what a real treasure is, is being passed along. Some will see it and some will have to experience the treasure, after having missed it. I have missed many a foggy day bus stop conversation with my boys. They are sprinting out of our lives too quickly for words and I caught this one this morning. Fleeting moments of treasured love touches.