RUSHVILLE — Courage. Daring. Indestructible hope. I don’t know what it really is. I haven’t been able to describe it. But I feel it now and then. Maybe it comes and goes like a wave.
I’m a big fan of rollercoasters. I’ve never walked away from one. That doesn’t mean they don’t scare me into next week. They absolutely do! I approach that long line to wait. I feel my hands begin to “cry”. Most of the time my stomach is doing some freak dance that resembles the dance moves of J-Lo’s young boyfriend. Yet I almost thrive on those crazy, mixed up feelings as I approach that wild ninety second ride. (“Hey there, Mr. Twenty-Year-Old-Running-This-Ride. Are you sure my lap restraint is properly secured?”)
So here we all are. Living life individually. What I mean is, we each have our own ways of dealing with things. We each bring something different to the table. Some of us have ridden through life relatively unscathed. We haven’t experienced the realities of divorce, our grandparents lived to be ninety-eight, our sisters haven’t struggled with eating disorders, best friends weren’t lost to drunk drivers, jobs of twenty-five-plus years aren’t eliminated by the sweeping of a pen across paper, and the list goes on and on.
Then there are those of us who seem to meet tragedy on every twist and turn of the ride. Our favorite grandpa is stolen when we’re just getting old enough to truly appreciate him, our dad is an alcoholic, our spouse of thirty-plus years leaves for twenty percent (if you don’t understand that I’ll have to explain another time), our dearest childhood friend is being ravaged by cancer, and our daughter is killing herself slowly with drugs. Seriously! Can we catch one small break, please!?