Today was the second day of school here, and I took this shot of Monica and Natalie getting off the bus. You can't even begin to imagine the memories this evokes.
Thirty years ago, my daughter started school, and got off the bus in that same spot: she and our son, Jim, who was in third grade then. Except for two and a half years when we moved to another district and rented this place out, that's where my kids caught the bus for most of their going-to-school years.
Eight years ago, my grandson Arick got off the bus here, also. I remember the year that (for some reason he and I will never figure out) he was chosen for the lead part in the Church Christmas play, a musical. Every afternoon after school, he and I would go over those lines, and I'd try to help him sing his songs on key... not an easy task, because he isn't gifted as a singer. That is now a precious memory. Arick told me he knows somebody with a tape of that play. I'd pay a few bucks to have a copy of it, just because I put so much work into it. If he ever wanted to give me a gift I'd treasure, that would be it.
I'm trying to recall why it was only Arick who came here, and not Amber. Perhaps my ex-daughter-in-law will refresh my memory. I believe Amber was going to day care.
Anyway, watching each day for the school bus to return its precious cargo to my house at 3:30 sure does stir up old memories. I'm blessed to have had so many of my grandkids living nearby for the better part of their lives.