The Bus Stop

Ann Lamott has inspired me to write this story on a warm Sunday summer evening as I sit on my patio sipping a refreshing glass of ice water. Ann is my new best friend. I fell in love with her in the pages of "Traveling Mercies." Her story pulls at my heart strings and touch the core of my being as no other author, though, there are several other favorites as Ann Tyler, Alice Hoffman, Rebecca Wells, etc., but Ann is different, and perhaps I am different too. I suppose I am. I am a new person each dawn, carrying with me the same ideals and habits, yet reborn anew. Each day I am on a different bus, and where it takes me I do not know, but I hop aboard and am ready for the adventurous ride. Oftentimes it goes around in circles like a dog chasing it’s tale, and many days it takes me to an enchanting destination of new found wisdom and love. Yesterday, Saturday was one of the later days as the bus took me on a heart filled journey when we visited our daughters lovely home to celebrate Ed’s birthday. Our son Craig has done a lot of landscaping work in Julie and Gary’s vast park like back yard and he asked his grandson Alex, age 5 to give me, ‘grandma’ a tour of the grounds. Yes, I am great grandma, but that is too much for little Alex to understand, so I am just ‘grandma’ and I love it. Alex and I were on an exciting adventure as he guided me down about 25 wooden steps (without hand rails yet). I said ‘Alex, grandma must be careful and walk slowly so as not to fall.’ His reply was, ‘it’s okay, I will help you.’ OMG! Did I mention he is a charming remarkable sweetheart of a little boy. He is smart and kind with expressive eyes as big as baseballs as he tells his five year old tales. So Alex gives me this guided tour of the lovely and enchanting new garden as we travel along a creative rock path. Among other lovely things, there is a quiet little meditation area with a wicker chair where I can picture myself sitting and dreaming the day away. As we approach the end of our tour, Craig meets us as Alex runs for a pair of plastic gloves and is bubbling over with excitement to show me the owl poop. Yes, that’s right, dried owl poop! He tires his best to put his five little fingers into the five fingers of the gloves. There were several attempts and I am overcome with laughter for as hard as he tries he kept coming up with two fingers in one hole, and an empty hole in the glove. He finally gave up and wore them as they were and took me to the poop. I think that was the best part of our stroll for him. After all, he is a five year old little boy and different things excite them than do an old lady. What an adventure the bus took me on that summer Saturday, and what a fantastic memory to behold of time spent with this dear little boy. And I thought my writing well had vanished for the summer, taken a vacation, until I picked up Ann’s book "Bird by Bird" and read that a writer should write 300 words every day, (and I knew that), but had become lazy. Thank you Ann for giving me the kick in the pants I needed . If I could ever capture and tell a story as captivating as you do I would be a happy soul. Ann and I do have something in common though, we both walk with the Lord each day. Betty McCallister 8/23/09