Schoolbuses and Birthdays

Everytime that I see a schoolbus I have to shut my eyes and fight back the tears.

My Dad drove a bus for the last part of his life and he absolutely LOVED it. I remember one of his first routes he called me to tell me there was a little blonde headed girl, about 6 years old, with big glasses on her face. He said she had the sweetest smile and that it reminded him of his own little Princess not so many years ago. That was one of the sweetest moments to me, I remember being sad and wondering how much he looked back on life and lost moments and if it made him as sad as it made me. But that story, that little tale was the awakening of a resart for me and wanting to rebuild that relationship that I had let anger, and judgement ruin. He also told me that there was an older boy who was wild and loved to shout and tease other kids on the bus, this kid reminded him of Ryan. That part of the story had me laughing.

I loved talking to my Dad during his day, seeing the bus trips he was driving students on, hearing the tales of mischevious little kids who would mind bus driver Tommy, and even the little kids who undoubtedly stole his heart. He loved his job. He brought so much Joy to every person he encountered on his routes. I know it wasn't necessarily what he would have dreamed to be doing but he did it 100% and with complete thanksgiving for the opportunities it provided.

So everytime I see a bus especially one with Durham School Services on the side I picture my Dad driving his bus through the streets and traffic of Keller with a big smile on his face. And then I remember he isn't there to do that any longer and the tears start to stream down my face.

I am about to have another birthday for which I am grateful to have had another year to live on this Earth although I am not at all excited about turning 26. I keep thinking that the math is off and I am only turning 25 again. It is hard to believe that my Dad is not going to be around for me to talk to on my birthday.

He used to send my cards or text me or call me on the wrong day to tell me Happy Birthday. This completely angered me... he is my Dad how could he NOT know when I was born. Then one year I sent him a Happy 50th Birthday card, called him to talk about how it felt ot be 50 to which he responded well sweetheart I turned 50 last year. I was horrified.... how could I not know how old my Dad is?! Since then I have been gratefull for the simple conversation and card that I have recieved from him and Christie knowing it is not a complete representation of the love he had for me and how proud he was to have been my Dad and shared in giving me life.

I will miss that this year. I will miss  him as I turn to face another year on this Earth knowing he is not.