At the Intersection of Bitter and Sweet

Yesterday a child died when a school bus collided with a dump truck near Kuna, at the intersection of Deer Flat and Happy Valley Roads. Just a country block from the corner I'd turn onto to go from my house to Ingrid's when we were teenagers in Idaho. I instantly looked at every news story I could find, hoping that I would not recognize the last name of the child as one that might be related to anyone I used to know.

When I'd read all I could, I thought to look at the site for the Kuna School District, and then the staff list, curious whether any of the teachers I'd once had were still around.

Though they were not, because I'm old and they're way older, there was the name of a former student, one of Ingrid's classmates. One who had been particularly awful to her back in the day. One who, when they met later at class reunions, she had come to like after all.

I was reminded of Ingrid's ability to evolve, of her big heart, of her unshakable ties to her home in Idaho and all that her home and family meant to her. Though she grew and changed mightily in the nearly 32 years I knew her, she also maintained that kernel of farm-kid-ness that was so essential to her. It was a pleasure to watch the changes and the lack of change, and a lesson for me.

I don't intend ever to return to that place. Ingrid's funeral was the last time for me. It's too hard now, knowing I have no one to talk to about it. But it will always be her home, and that's enough for me.

Wherever you are, Ingrid, I'm there.