Yesterday we had some weather come in and I had to cover both a.m. and p.m. bus routes. As I was driving toward the house I was hit by that feeling in the pit of my stomach. It traveled up to my chest and the blues came over me AGAIN.
This time I allowed it to come. I drove along the snowy roads remembering the time that the kids and I were in our conversion van on these snowy roads. Pulling into the driveway and sliding straight instead of turning left towards the garage. We continued down the hill, over to the side of the house. I could hear the kids yelling, feel my panic, and then relief after coming to a stop in the side yard.
I remembered the time Michael, my oldest son, put a dent in the garage door after he stole the car keys from the top of the refrigerator and tried to drive the car. I wondered if the dent was still there.
I remembered when Guilia was in Kindergarten. Me pregnant with Joe, lugging Michael by the hand, and Guilia running to the corner because it wasn’t safe for a big bus to come up to the driveway. The same driveway I now stop at for high school students.
I remembered Beth’s birthday party where we tied powdered donuts on strings and the kids raced to eat them. (Don’t tell Michelle Obama we let kids eat powdered donuts)
It was while Beth was transferring kids from her mini bus to my big bus that I realized everything was memories of my kids. I wasn’t remembering happy times with the house. I was remembering happy times spent with my kids. This made me feel much better.
Going back by the house during the elementary route brought a smile to my face. The house is just a house. It was my kids inside that brought me the happy memories.*It was later in the day when I rethought what I had written. I started the post saying I was hit with the blues, but by the end I was talking about happy memories. I needed to explain. Travelling those roads and seeing my old house brought back so many memories. Those memories made me sad and I was not sure why. When I let my mind go I realized I was thinking of happy times with the kids. When the kids were small. Now they are grown and on their own. That tends to make us moms all weepy and sad. So it wasn’t the house making me sad it was that fact that my kids were young and now they are not.