This past August we took the kids to Six Flags Discovery
Kingdom, bound and determined to have a great time no matter what. While at the park Jeff took Emmie to change
her diaper and I agreed to take Joey and Logan on a rollercoaster in the little
kid section. This is huge for me because
I get motion sickness after 1 minute on playground swings at the park! But, I wanted to be a good sport and it wasn’t
a giant scary rollercoaster so I figured I would be fine.
We got on, it whipped around the tracks, made sharp turns,
and generally knocked me around like rollercoasters do. We came to the end and I was so relieved that
I had made it, it was over, and I only felt mildly ill. But then the ride operator said, “we don’t
have a line and as long as no one wants to get off… who wants to go again?!” The whole rollercoaster full of children
cheered in delight and my boys were no exception. So around we went again. And this time when the ride stopped I felt
sick but still happy I sucked it up and went again.
And what happened?
That ride operator exclaimed, “Still no line! Again?” And the children screamed, “Yay!” And
I thought, “NO!!!” but just kept my mouth shut.
So around we went again. And
again. And again. After the fifth time I decided I had to get
off, or I was going to puke and ruin everyone’s day. Thankfully someone got in line and we all had
to get off anyway.
I staggered off that ride.
The world was spinning around me and Jeff, taking pity on me, helped me
to a bench so I could just sit. He
brought me some Cherry Garcia ice cream (because that solves all problems) and
I remember just being so happy to be on solid ground as I waited for the nausea
to subside.
This story has come to mind today as a perfect metaphor for
the past 7 months. I have been on a
rollercoaster, stuck on one actually.
Every time I think we are done and the end is in sight, the ride
operator of life sends me around again.
I need to get off please. I need
to sit on solid ground and recover. I
need some Cherry Garcia.
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