By Valerie Goldstein 
It seems like just yesterday I was writing a piece about my last baby going off to kindergarten. I poured my heart out into words about how she was going to find her place in the world, and how I was going to find a new sense of belonging. I wrote, “I was able to find a bit of ‘me’ again. She has barely left my side in almost six years, so her absence is still fresh and foreign. But I know her jubilant little self will be just fine. And just like that, she’s on her way. And so am I.”
Well, here we are, several years later, and we turned out just fine. In the blink of an eye, we are closing our chapter of elementary school. Some days were long and busy, with my working away from home or conducting author visits from school to school. Sometimes I’d text a mom friend already at the bus stop, letting her know there was a chance I’d be two minutes late.
The bus stop moms were ladies I could always depend on.
Most days were long and simple at home with writing, chores, grocery lists, school forms, and not leaving the house all day because of work to do at home. At the end of these mundane afternoons, I could depend on my bus stop mom friends in a different way. They would be my go-to for conversations about what was happening in the neighborhood. Who are the new neighbors? Did you see that wild turkey in your yard too? Or our favorite, What is going on with the abandoned house on the corner?! We’d discuss the weather like little old ladies, and huddle together from the cold during those blustery days. We’d make small chat about needing a heating lamp for our corner and convince ourselves it could be done like public urban bus stops.
They are my go-to for news, school-related information, kid-friendly places to go, house improvement ideas, and simple companionship. Sometimes these ladies would be my source of adult conversation for the day. They’d fill my void of female connection and togetherness. They’d be there for my occasional tears and offer hugs and care. These ladies understand the demands of daily life and are right there in the thick of it with me. Rain or shine, or in the blazing heat or whipping winds of winter. We’d be there for each other’s milestones like Bar Mitzvahs and weddings. We would cheer each other on in one another’s endeavors, big or small. On sunny days, we would relish watching our combined gaggle of kids playing on the corner bus stop lawn. My bus stop mom friends gave me friendships that provided support, camaraderie, and a shared bond.
Soon, I’ll have two kids in middle school and one in high school. While I’m looking forward to my children graduating and moving up, I’m going to miss the days of waiting for a little one at the corner. I won’t have my bus stop mom friends to look forward to talking to. On occasion, I hope to pass the bus stop during “pick up” and catch up like old times. Hopefully we’ll have meet-ups, so I’m not the creepy middle-aged mom lingering at the corner with no little kids to pick up.
For all the bus stop moms who come out of hibernation during the mornings and late afternoons, use those seven minutes of waiting for the bus to stop and talk to your neighbors. If you are somewhat of an introvert like me, you’ll appreciate the sense of community at the corner. And you very well might make connections that can last through elementary school or last a lifetime.
by Holly Lemons 
