Community

I just returned from walking to the end of the block with my son as he headed out to his middle school bus stop this morning. When I sat down at my computer, I found this in my file of blog posts I never posted. I wrote it in June of 2015. And I wish I could share it with Dara and Bryan, but I seem to have lost them as Facebook friends. 

With the end of the school year, I’ve been particularly reflective on the evolving and transient nature of “community.” 

For the past five years, we’ve enjoyed the company of a wonderful family at my son’s bus stop. The location of the stop has changed three times. (One year we were even at a different stop but could wave to each other when we headed downhill for home and they headed uphill for home.) Other children came and went for various reasons – moved from the neighborhood, changed schools, used a different mode of transportation. But this family with three girls and my family with one boy remained.

Although a year apart, Sam regularly sits with Stella, or instigates a chase with Ruby or Elsa by swiping their backpacks, or plays whatever game evolves during the wait for the bus each morning.

I knew the dynamic would change next year. Stella would head off to middle school on a different bus. Sam will be getting rides to school for safety patrol. But we’d all still see each other in the neighborhood. 

I learned yesterday, we won’t. Stella’s Dad got a job in Pennsylvania, actually a couple of hours from my mother’s home. They’re moving this summer. And our bus stop community will be no more. I’m happy for the family – better job, better opportunities. But I’m sad. We will miss them.