November 18, 2021

Sharing Our Stories | school bus ride

It was 1974.

I was in grade one. 

Mom worked part-time, and I guess I forgot where I was going after school on this particular day.

(I don't remember talking to my teacher about it.)

I looked for my cousin, Glenda. When I was 6, she would have been 12. 

(I don't remember how I got to the older kids to ask for her.)

Glenda's friend, Sharon, told me she was sick, so I thought she must be home with Aunt Carole. I asked Sharon, who took the same bus, if I could get on the bus with her.

(I don't remember the bus driver asking any questions.)

The bus dropped me off at Uncle Norman and Aunt Carole's house. I went to the door and no one was home.

(I don't remember what I did. Did I start to cry then? Did I knock over and over?)

I was taught not to walk along the road alone and their house was on a road known as the Trans Canada Highway back then. I decided to walk home and I started through the field.

By this time, of course, my mom was afraid and out looking for me. 

As I walked through the field along the highway, I saw our car pass by. I could see it pull into the driveway, but I couldn't run back fast enough to catch my mom before she left to keep searching. 

(I don't remember how many times this happened.)

Still in the hay field, I would turn back towards home. I didn't think to go back to the house and wait. I kept trying to get home.

(I don't remember how much time passed.)

From the highway, my mom saw the top of my head above the hay.

My last memory is running back through the field towards the house.

The story makes me teary...

...remembering it as a little girl

...and thinking how hard it must have been on my mom. 

Mom says I didn't like to ride on a school bus for a long time after that day.

Sharing Our Stories

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