My little goes to school each morning on a mini bus which comes directly to our house to pick her up. We have a responsible, dedicated and punctual driver who always tells me in advance if she knows that she will be absent on a following day. This one particular morning, she was more than 15 minutes late and when the bus did finally arrive, we saw that there was a substitute driver. My daughter was the first stop but since the bus matron was also there, I figured it was alright to put her on. The driver was holding the sheet with the addresses in his hand and he seemed like a decent fellow.
I have to stop at this point in the narrative and tell you that he WAS a decent fellow. He delivered my child to school along with the other children, and he did a fine job. He got them there at 9:15 rather than 9:00 but that probably had more to do with the last minute change in drivers and his unfamiliarity with the route than with anything else. The issue was not the driver.
The issue was that at 10:30, I got a call from the school asking me where my child was.
Ten thirty.
According to school policy, the kids who aren’t in class by the time the 9:00 bell rings are marked as absent. The attendance monitor makes calls, house by house, to inquire about the reasons for the absences. In our case, however, she sent me into a panic.
“Oh my GOSH! We had a substitute driver this morning!!! She’s not there?????” My head started spinning, my hands started shaking, my heart stared pounding out of my chest so hard that you could see it from the outside. I was trying to figure out in which direction I should drive to go find her.
“Wait a minute, hold on,” she said, “let me just call the teacher to find out if she’s in class. It’s possible the bus arrived late. Just hold on.”
One full minute passed. I begged like I’ve never begged before.
“I’m SO, SO sorry! Your daughter is here. Her bus was just late to arrive. I’m so sorry I got you all worried like that.”
Apologies are a nice thing. I appreciate them. I do. But think this through for a minute. Had something—heaven forbid—actually happened, then the driver would have had more than a full hour and a half to have driven in whichever direction he cared to before anybody would have been alerted to the crime. And on the other hand, had the office had a simple policy in place whereby they check their late busses before the attendance monitor places calls, then I would have been spared the seven hours that I spend with shaking hands and uncontrollable tears and panic attacks.
When my daughter got home from school that afternoon, I hugged her tighter than I’ve ever hugged her before. I picked her up off of the ground and held her there for a good few minutes. Lucky me, she LOVES to be hugged. She soaked it up. But then she felt my tears and she pulled her head away from me, gave me a funny smirky-kind of look and said: “Mommy? Are you ok?”
I’ll be ok.
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6 comments:
OMG...wow...they need procedures in place, now. Can't imagine...xo
I already told you: that day was a GOOD day!
Hugs to you Jill!!! And to the gnoomy!
My god, Jill, what a trauma--I would have gone bonzo! I'm glad you got through it.
Thank goodness that all turned out OK! I am sure that the minute you waited on the phone felt like an hour!
Wishing you a good rest of the weekend my dear. :)
Wow, Jill! Your writing made me cry. This story is traumatic, and I'm so, so glad it turned out all right. I hope, too, that it perhaps taught the administration a lesson. I hope that the woman who called could truly hear your panic so she could learn from it. But, as one who appreciate good writing, I must also say that I admire the way you crafted this post... from the structure down to the actual words. Big hugs, dear one, and to the little ones too.
Thank you for your comments, everybody. I have since had a chance to speak not only with the regular bus driver but also with some of the school administration and I now understand a lot more about the process than I had originally. First and foremost, the bus company diligently monitors the progress of each and every bus and if there actually had been an emergency, they'd have been on it instantaneously. Also, the drivers must regularly go through rigorous checks and balances. They don't put just anybody behind those steering wheels. And finally, in this case, it was a conflation of missteps that led to the phone call that I received. If any one of them had been averted, the whole scenario could have been averted too.
In the end, as Yael said, it was a good day. It's a gift when no tragedy has to happen for one to count blessings and be grateful.
(And thank you, dearest Rebecca, for your kind words about my writing. For me, it is best if it comes from the heart as this did. I am flattered that you noticed.)
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