So today, something new happened to us. SportsKid, who is not a morning person (show me a 13-year-old who is!) missed the bus to his Boys' Choir Ensemble Competition. The paperwork from his teacher said the bus would leave at 6:45 am. We took that to mean we needed to be there by 6:45. We got there at 6:46. No buses or cars in sight. We went to the high school, thinking the bus might be there. Nope. Back to the Middle School. We knocked on the door to catch the attention of the janitor who told us the bus had already left. Really? He thought it had pulled out a little before 6:45. It must have. It would have passed us on our way to the school if it had left any later than 6:42.
So at 6:51, we set off for a town about 35 minutes north of us. We were both in a foul mood, though I was able to let it go much more easily than SportsKid was. He had never planned to join Ensemble this year, but at the choir try-outs his teacher talked him into it. He had aged up to a new school, and I imagine it felt good to be wanted. He was probably a little nervous and unsure of himself, not knowing if he'd find his place in this new building with new teachers. And so, when this teacher so badly wanted him for her ensemble, he signed up. I think he knew immediately it was a mistake. This teacher is really frazzled, the music they sing is not great, and it takes away from time he would like to be spending on other things. So at 6:51 on this Saturday morning, he was not happy that he missed the bus to go to something he didn't want to do anyway. Insult to injury, you know?
I drove him to the competition and on my way home, I got to thinking. It seems like lately I have been missing the bus. Lots of buses, actually. Sometimes it seems that everyone else in the world is finding themselves, leading lives they are proud of, accomplishing things. They are on the bus. So why is the bus always leaving me behind? I used to be on the bus. I used to be early for the bus. Now, I'm so late for the bus I wonder if it even exists. I know what time it's leaving, but I just can't seem to catch even a glimpse of its taillights. What happened - how did that change?
I wish I knew. I wish I could figure out how to get back on that bus. I wish I could say that I know this is just a phase, and surely the bus will come around for me again. But what if it doesn't? What if my time on the bus is over? What do I do then? Could it possibly be that there is no place for me to go? That this is where I'm meant to be for the rest of my life? I don't have a bad life. Probably lots of people think they would like their bus to bring them to a life like mine. Our family is safe, happy and secure. We have what seems to be such trivial worries compared to others. Yet, I feel incomplete. I feel like I could be doing more, contributing more, feeling better about myself. For some reason, I really feel like I need to get back on that bus - I'm just not sure how to catch it anymore.