A couple years ago I dropped off my oldest daughter at high school on her first day. We pulled into the parking lot and were immediately slowed by a speed bump that that was more like some kind of national security device used to protect a military base. By the second one, it was clear that I needed to come almost to a complete stop to negotiate them. The rise was a bit too high for the run. Speed “bump” can’t even be the right word. These were placed at almost regular intervals and there was even one that got you leaving the lot. Some were subdued and hard to see because the paint and some of the surface had been sheered off by the unsuspecting students and parents. Some were torn up and missing large chunks. I imagined the damage to the undercarriage of the many cars that created this phenomenon. Mine included. 

 

I mention them each time I drop her off how poetic it is that these bumps are in her high school parking lot. For they represent the bumps and trials that high school will present to a kid. Sometimes you see them coming and can brace yourself, sometimes they are just bigger than they look, and sometimes they come out of nowhere. Quite shocking at first but with time and persistence would eventually wear down and become manageable. I always suggest that someday a poem would emerge from those damn bumps, but she generally gives me that look that parents get. Crazy dad. 

 

After two years of high school Im sure my daughter knows exactly what Im talking about. Life in general keeps placing these bumps in front of us. As a single dad for both her and her two sisters, it seems like sometimes I hit these damn things on the freeway. As passengers they are forced to bear witness. We cruise on not knowing exactly what else is down that road or what damage that last bump has done to the vehicle. How long can I drive if something catastrophic has occurred? How much will is cost? Well, we keep driving anyway and keep driving we must. We don’t know where this road leads or how long it goes, but there is one thing I know for sure…. There will be a poem about the speed bumps in the high school parking lot.