The Small Bus



When we lived in Brooklyn the most stressful part of the day was, like for most families, the morning.  Getting Benjamin up at 6am, dressing, comforting him through seizures, medicating, and strapping him into his wheelchair in time for his 7am bus was like running a marathon every day.  We also had to wait for his transportation nurse who had her own struggles with parking.

Those of us from Brooklyn can write pages about parking problems, and the overall fun of driving in a crowded city with its less than patient fellow commuters.  I can tell you how little I appreciated drivers who honked at Benjamin’s school bus in the morning.  It takes time to carry a child in a wheelchair down the front steps, load him onto the bus lift, and tie down his chair.  It’s a drag to wait.  Sorry.  Except, I wasn’t sorry and I was sure to wear my very best Brooklyn Too bad for you face as I stared down the piece of work leaning on the car horn. Continue reading