Roller Coaster Life

Yesterday, I was at Hersheypark with my extended family. I rode the coasters until my brain was scrambled like an egg. The Storm Runner to our left is designated on the Hersheypark website as "An Aggressive Thrill Ride." Indeed it is...we did it twice. My head and neck still seem a little thrashed today.

Yesterday was one of those early summer days with some rain that kept the crowds away but the rides were still open. We whistled nonchalantly by the signs that state "two hour wait from this point" and either hopped right in the cars or had a slight wait.

Things came full circle. I will tell you why. I don't want to use the word Karma because Karma is nasty. Grace is what I am riding here. Back when I was about ten, my parents packed us four kids in the Station Wagon and we headed out from the Philly 'burbs to Hersheypark. I was so excited to be going to a "real" amusement park that I almost had a stroke from excited anticipation.

Up to then, we would go to Lenape Amusement Park which was one of those small scale operations that would take tickets for a ride. As it was, it was fine and fun but nothing like the mecca (at the time) of Hersheypark. This was before Great Adventure in N.J. Hersheypark was the preferred destination of discriminating kids.

The drive from Philly up the Turnpike took a couple of hours...each minute and mile excruciatingly slow. Soon, I would arrive with my brothers, mom and dad, at the entrance of Hersheypark, enter its hallowed gates, and have some thrilling ride on mega-roller coasters. Truly, my heart was stoked with adrenaline.

Well, we got to the gates alright...and then my Dad decided it was too expensive to go in. Seeing the roller coasters and hearing the screams from the parking lot made the turning away even so much more painful...truly, so close and so far. We went to Chocolate World instead where we rode in these little carts past displays of how chocolate was made. There was even a chocolate river for real flowing by. I felt like throwing myself in the confection to drown myself.

Life is composed of high points, low points, twists, and turns. Waiting for hours and then experiencing thrills that last seconds but are forever burned into our memories. That day at Hersheypark was one of the saddest days I have ever had. My dad was communicating a lot of messages that day...the two I took away were that I could not trust him and that money was more important than me. Not sure I could have verbalized it but my heart knew the truth.

Yet, as far as deprivation and abuse go, I have seen far worse as a school counselor. Really. There are far too many "Poor Me-ers" in our society who have zero clue and empathy about how bad it can be. And some of the worst offenders, so obnoxiously non-empathetic, are people who go to Christian churches. That is a hard truth to us Bible-toters. A lot of self-righteous religion, so little Christ. I have seen it, heard it. Sometimes even out of my own mouth--or at least contemplated in my heart. God has to take me down when I judge others from on High. Only God judges perfectly...we humans would be better to judge ourselves more and others' less. Lord have mercy, because we need it.

And, I am very thankful that my dad is not a waster of money. That training has kept me from schemes of money-making to good to be true and purchasing things that I shouldn't have. Both my wife and I come from immigrant families (me second generation on my dad's side) and we try not to be spenders beyond our means. There is much my parents did right when I grew up, and much they did wrong. My dad had the responsibility to resolve the cost issue before setting Hersheypark in our sights where I would get the closest possible just to be turned away. What can I say, I can't put a good spin on this one. It sucked. Period.

He missed seeing us kids having fun, being kids, and rejoicing in it. He denied himself in the end of a powerfully meaningful memory.

I tell this tale not to run my dad or my parents down. But, neither do I want to candy-coat what I have experienced. Readers of this blog--if you take the time out of your lives to read what I write--I feel as if I have to share beyond the mundane and meaningless. And, some of what I share may be painful to myself and others to unearth. It is a privilege as a writer to actually be read. I really don't care if I make any money off my desire to write, but I do want people to read what I write and walk away being glad that they did. No one wants to blog into an echo chamber.

Here is the ironic part about yesterday. I fought a fierce internal battle of whether I should go or not. Fortunately, the battle was short, yet it was intense. Here is the back-story. We are in the throes of doing student schedules at school. I really don't feel like it is summer for me until I have my students' schedules for next year cleaned up and ready to be sent. Until then, I am in a state of anxiety and dis-ease. I was thinking that I really should skip the day at the park and go to work instead. There is also some pressure for me to finish when the other school counselors do...to not finish around the same time might hint at me not being as competent and capable and quick as my colleagues. This is more my own voice than anything telling me this. I have not picked up that "why are you slow?" vibe from my bosses. I need to make that clear as to not insinuate otherwise.

The roller coasters will be there sometime in the future. Or, would they be?

Then, I thought about my nieces who would be there, three in all. And, that I would miss seeing the looks in their eyes and hearing their laughter as they had fun in the park. They are only going to be kids once. I want them to remember me more than just as some distant shadowy uncle who seemed to think he had more important things to do than hang out with his family at Hersheypark one June summer day back in 2011. I saw my niece Julia overcome her fears of rollercoasters that was quite acute even as of last summer with an enthusiastic embrace of getting on the coasters yesterday. I watched her grow and become more confident. The picture that the automatic camera took for purchase that they put on the t.v. screens was on display and it did show her to be scared. But, she was next to her Dad, and it all turned out OK.

God gives us chances to redeem to past and replace past hurts with the balm of healing. Yet, we have to act...not be fated....to break the chain of the past that links to the present, and future and replace it with, new, stronger, and better memories. Yesterday, was that day. A day to remember. And, I am so very glad I did not miss it.