On the Bus

A couple of years ago, my type A friend and her newly engaged daughter had a conversation regarding wedding planning:

Daughter: Just a friendly reminder, Mom. You're on the bus but you're not driving the bus.

Friend: Where am I on the bus? Behind the driver?

Daughter: That would be my fiance.

Friend: Well, where's my seat?

Daughter: Right now you're in the middle. There are seats closer to the front and to the back.

Friend: I guess I'll buckle up.

As a parent of three adult children, I feel every word of that brilliant metaphor and have thanked my friend's daughter for it. I have lost count of the number of times I have used the phrase or shared it with my friends. First, let me say, that I am grateful to be on the bus at all. My relationships with my kids are solid and for the most part, I know what direction they are headed at any given time because we keep in touch. Next, let me say that I know the bus is imaginary. I just can't help wanting to see if there is some bus monitor position that I can apply for, you know, just to help keep everything running smoothly on the bus; maybe offer an alternative route or advise that a passenger be removed. Bus monitors are very important to the bus. Finally, I miss Ms. Frizzle and the Magic School Bus. #iykyk I really identified with her as a teacher and a mom and as someone with wild, sometimes rats nest hair.

As a child, if you're fortunate, you have parents or at least a parent that loves you and drives your bus. You get to ride the bus and look out the window and play with your friends. Your parents are watching the road, planning the stops and adventures, letting you know when to get off and on. They're teaching you as they drive. You get quite an education riding on a bus and I mean that in more ways than one.

If the village (please know I am fully aware that we did not raise our children on our own) has done their very best, there usually comes a time when the child or semi adult wants to drive their own bus. It makes sense. I remember wanting to drive my own bus. It's just different when you are a parent. You come to realize that pride and loss can co-exist. I remind myself all of the time of what I read on a post: "you're not an empty nester; you're a bird launcher." By the grace of God, our birds are flying; and although it's rarely a straight path, they are soaring.

If you're like me, as you're riding on your kid's bus, trying not to distract the driver too often with your helpful hints, you're also trying to get your parents to ride on your bus. You explain that they should come with you and just look out the window and not have to worry anymore. It's safer on your bus. You'll plan the route, get them to their appointments, navigate the detours of health care and hospice care and everything in between. You are so very grateful for all they've done and even more so that they are still around to ride your bus. It took my siblings and me quite some time to convince our parents to board our busses and let us drive. It was a privilege for my husband and me to care for our fathers before they passed. We are grateful to still have our mothers on our bus.

My children, similar to my friend's daughter, remind me now and again that I belong to a circle of people they love and trust for guidance. Apparently, I'm not the center of the universe anymore. I get it and I am glad they have their circle. When it comes to parenting adult children, I must admit that some days, I'm riding the struggle bus. However, for the most part, I truly appreciate being on the bus and I enjoy the ride. I know that one day, those adult children of mine will want me to stop driving my bus and hop on theirs. I hope when the time comes, I have the grace and strength to agree.

Let me know in the comments below:

☕ Coffee talk questions:

Parents of adult children-- how is your bus ride going?

Adult children: Spill the T!