Don’t Miss the Bus…

We missed the bus. Not just this morning. It happens at least once a week when my children and I decide we want to “take our time” getting ready. What that really means is we need to finish some homework, switch the clothes from the washer to the dryer that mom forgot about the night before. Or simply take advantage of a schedule where calls do not start until 9am to prevent the chaotic get dressed, pack lunches, fill water bottles, eat breakfast, stop fighting, share the sink when brushing teeth, and please brush your hair repetitive instruction.

I was a bus rider my entire life until the age of 16. But my mom was also a Bus Driver. In fact, she retired from the school district as a Bus Driver. I have never put that in writing nor thought about blasting it to social media. Why? It was embarrassing. It wasn’t glamorous, didn’t pay much, and lacked respect as a worthwhile profession.

But she was the BEST DAMN BUS DRIVER. She was never late. Never missed a day. Was dependable, treated every kid equal, listened to family drama and on the last day of the year she treated every kid to ice cream at the small town gas station. She loved and mentored the kids by experience and kindness, not degrees, accolades or formal training.

In elementary, I woke up with her at 5am every morning to ride her bus route. In the moonlight we checked the tires, the lights, the doors, the emergency back door and off we went in the dark of morning. I sat right behind her in row #1, watching and observing. The interesting part is I was never embarrassed on her bus because everyone loved her and thought she was cool. I was proud of my mom. The best damn Bus Driver.

Fast forward to high school. Mom was still driving a bus, but at that point I had a car, thought I was cool and spent all my time doing something school related. In order to spend time with me, and make extra cash, she signed up to drive every away game for soccer and cheerleading. Guess what? She was still the cool Bus Driver that all my friends loved. I know I was the only one that saw her as the “Bus Driver.”

Purpose Exemplified

My mom knew and lived out her purpose as a Bus Driver. She was not ashamed, although we often talked about her wanting to finish the last 21 credit hours of college to become a PE Teacher, her dream job. She never got the chance to finish. A single mom to 3 kids with a completely absent father and zero child support made it beyond difficult. But she didn’t complain. She was never a victim of the situation. She kept doing what she loved, and we made ends meet. She sacrificed beyond belief.

I had no idea what life was like for her, I still do not. As a co-parent in a totally opposite situation that is amicable, supportive and financially stable there are times I think to myself, “this is hard.” It is NOT! It is beyond easy, relatively speaking.

Slowly I am starting to understand purpose on a different level. Purpose does not exist in tandem with monetary gain. Purpose is not what you do, but also who you are. Purpose is not solely about leadership or influence. Purpose is not gained, instead I think it is earned. Purpose is about how you affect people. How you wake up with a clear conscience and know what you are doing that day matters; to someone, to yourself, to your family and friends. I wonder how hard it would be to truly have purpose without social support and community. I am sure it is possible, but to stay rooted in purpose, I think the human heart desires to be reassured and valued.

Don’t Just Say the Words

We still talk on the phone in the mornings. We discuss the day’s events. She asks about my calls and how work is going. She tells me how she is running errands, having lunch with friends, planning to mow on the tractor and get her Vitamin D. Some days it is a need to drain the hot tub or go take care of a friends pool. She also owned her own pool cleaning business called “Splish Splash”, another not-so-glamorous profession that I also did not shout to the roof tops. But we cleaned pools, and skimming the surface was my other duty after a full-time, pseudo bus monitor! It should go without much surprise that my mom has taught 100+ kids how to swim, not for money rather sheer delight and joy. Oh yeah, that reminds me, she did manage community pools in the Summers.

This morning I wanted to call her, but I had to come sit down and write. I want to do more than speak the words or shoot her a text of appreciation. I want to make sure she knows all of this before it is too late. So often I see posts about people my age losing their parents. I read them. When I think about the scenario in my own life I can hardly breath and tears stream down my face. I do not know what I would do without her. She is only 72, but I know the years are limited. I know memory and cognition may fail, and what if I never told her all of this or gave it to her as something to read and keep.

Maybe it is not writing our own personal life bio that is most impactful and important. What if your life story was written by others? Your impact in the world should not be reserved for an obituary where people leave comments about how much they thought of you, or what memory stood out the most. I know my mom, along with millions of other 70+ year-old’s need to read and know such words. They need to read them today. What would a simple letter do for so many people who are wondering how they are still relevant, important, seen, heard, needed and valued in society?

What LinkedIn Has Taught Me

My mom is 100% cooler than me. Lots of post have been made about senior living, engagement, community and customer experience, programming, resources, advocacy, supporting the industry, but the one post that received the most likes, views and comments was a picture of my mom. This one.

People fell in love with my “Happy Birthday to Mom” post. I talked about her being resilient and fully living life. I showed her the final numbers in which she asked me what “impressions” meant and I told her it was a complex algorithm. I distilled it down a bit to the fact that she was inspiring many people. That her story resonated with people of all ages. That she is just her and that people have always loved her heart, her kindness, her attitude on life, her undoubtedly obvious love for “not Nashville” music and carefree living.

Write a Letter

If there is someone that needs to know what they mean to you. How they inspired you continue to do so. Take a 15-minute timeout and write the words.

Not a writer, record the words!

Get it out of your head and heart and put it into the world.