Wednesday, May 23, 2012

In the Blink of an Eye

Photo courtesy Adam Ward/WDBJ7
      My daughter Tess probably doesn't know this, but I sit in the window each morning watching and waiting for her to safely get on the school bus. She's not a little kid, she's in high school. Some may call this obsessive parenting, but I call it a mother's heart. It makes no difference how old they are. Even when I travel, I ask my husband to delay his start for work in the morning so that he can wait for her to be safely on her way. He does this for me and he's never questioned my request.
      I often pray for her as I sit there watching her wait for the bus. I pray for her day, I pray for her tender spirit, I pray for her future, I pray for all kinds of things for her. As the minutes tick by, I often add our other daughters to my prayers. Mostly, I pray for them to be safe and secure in a sometimes violent world. And I always add my thanks to God for the rich blessings he has given me in my family.
     Today started off in this typical fashion. Although today, Tess was carrying extra gift bags to school for her two best friends' birthdays. The bags contained homemade cookies, friendship bracelets she wove and little boxes she artfully covered with postage stamps, with everything all ribboned and tissue-papered up. After the bus pulled away, I went next door to pick some cherries in the cool of the morning. As I was picking, I began to hear sirens in the distance, or was it a dog howling? I couldn't be sure with the riotous noise of cicadas in my ears. I strained to listen and determined it was definitely sirens and they were heading in this direction. They stopped somewhere up the road. It's not uncommon to hear sirens out  this way so I didn't think too much about it. Farm accidents occur more often than we like to think, elderly neighbors need immediate medical attention, even Audrey's broken arm two years ago had an ambulance up here. I continued picking cherries. My mind wandered to things like:  Why do I always wear a white shirt when I pick cherries? I wonder how many ticks are on me. Could a rattlesnake be in this tall grass? Would I hear it? This breeze is glorious, and so on.
     Within fifteen minutes I had enough picking and came back to the house. The phone was ringing and it was Audrey calling from her job. She never phones from work and her voice sounded anxious. "Mom, did Tess go to school on the bus today?" she asked. "Yes, she's been gone half an hour already", I said. "Well, a bus flipped over up on Zion Hill Road and students are injured. Is that Tess' bus?" My mind began to race. I recalled hearing the sirens. I couldn't remember which route Tess' bus travels. "How do you know this?" I asked Audrey. "Our neighbor, so-and-so told me." Ah yes, so many young people around here are firefighters or on the rescue squad and we live in a small community where news travels like wildfire. "Well, I don't know if that would be Tess' bus. I think her bus goes back on the road behind us, a different way. Let me see if I can find out" I tell her. I realize my voice is getting louder as we talk, betraying the fear that begins to swell up inside me.
     We hang up and I stand frozen, trying to think. What should I do? What is Tess' bus number? Shuffling through my pocket calendar, I can't for the life of me find that paper from the beginning of the school year with her bus number on it. Shouldn't mothers know this stuff? I'm sure her bus goes a different way. But does it loop back around to Zion Hill? I could drive up there. No, I decide, that would make me a nuisance. I try to phone the school but the line is busy. I'm pretty sure Tess' bus goes a different way, but I feel like I should make sure. I run downstairs to see if I can find the paper with her bus number on it. As I rummage through the filing cabinet, I picture Tess wearing her new shorts and top that we bought at Penny's last night. She was so happy to have something new to wear to school today. I think of how late we were up last night, baking those cookies. I picture the gifts she's carrying and how upset she would be if they got ruined. I catch myself and don't allow my mind to go in this direction. Look for the bus number, look for the bus number.
     The house phone is ringing again. Concerned friends have heard about the bus accident and are calling to check on us. Within 45 minutes, the entire community has the news. Everyone knows we live up here and that Tess could be on that bus. I have no answers for them. I feel like I should know, I should have an answer about my own daughter, but I don't. I try the school number a few more times and finally reach the school secretary, who I am acquainted with. She hears the controlled concern in my voice. I explain the reason for my call and ask if she could please tell me if Tess is in her class?  I must rack my brain again- which class does Tess have first period? For crying out loud! I berate myself. Don't I know anything about my daughter's day? "It's Mrs. Caldwell's class", the secretary tells me. Can you hold on a minute?" "Yes, of course, thank you!" I reply. A moment later she's back on the line. She speaks to me using a tone a bit like I'm a child needing reassurance. Gosh, my voice must have sounded more panicked than I thought. "Tess in in class. She is here in class" she enunciates for me. "Oh, thank you. Thank you, so much." I reply. She understands. She's a mother too.
     As I hang up, I realize my hands are shaking and I begin to cry. Any composure I maintained in this last half hour has let go. Tess is safe. The phone rings a few more times. My mom calls from New York wondering why I haven't made my morning call to her. Our neighbors call from their vacation on Ocracoke Island. They've read our local news on the internet within an hour of its happening and call from their cell phone. The day and age we live in- amazing.
     All the while, I'm aware that even though my child wasn't on that bus, someone's child was. Thirty-nine to be exact, plus a bus driver. I will added thirty-nine more kids to my own four when I pray throughout the day today. Some of them might be wearing a new outfit or carrying special bags.

*News reports claim that thirteen children were taken to local hospitals as a precaution and that no injuries appear to be serious. The bus driver has been charged with reckless driving. She was apparently distracted by a student in her rear view mirror.






5 comments:

the plant gardener said...

sending blessings and love to you all <3

Lynn said...

This was like reading a suspense novel - my heart was pounding. I'm so glad that wasn't Tess's bus, but sorry other children were injured. I would have cried with relief, too.

CountryDew said...

I was wondering if that was close to where you live. I am so glad your child is safe. Many prayers for those who were injured.

Marie Rayner said...

How terrifying. So glad that your daughter was safe and sound. My prayers to those who weren't. Glad the bus driver was charged. That looks like a horrific accident. xxoo

Jayne said...

Oh my gosh, Leonora, as I read this I felt my voice growing louder. And by the end, tears were rolling. I'm so happy Tess is safe, but like you, I feel for those other children who were hurt, and their families. Thank God all is Ok.

My kids don't often take the bus. They go to school in the city, and we carpool with another family. Sometimes, though, if they don't have a practice or other after-school activity, they take a bus home and I could not tell you what the bus's number is. But I can tell you that I have fretted, several times, when the kids (over the years) have not returned home by the usual drop off hour. In that case, I usually try them on their cell phones, but often, they don't have the phone on or don't pay attention to the ring.

Totally unaware, also, of their school schedule. They both have an 8 day rotating schedule, so I would have to locate the schedule to see which class they might be in during any given day at any given time. So, don't be hard on yourself about this. You're not alone.

"Mother's heart." That's exactly it, Leonora. And your mother's heart lends itself to beautiful, emotive (w/out being overly sentimental), honest writing. I love your longer pieces, and I realize I don't have this blog on my reader, so I'm going to rectify that right now.

(I love that Tess made gifts for her friends. So sweet--the best gifts of all.)