Roller Coasters

One year when I was a kid, my family went to Florida. I think my dad was interviewing for a job. Thankfully, he took a job in Memphis so I could eventually marry a Memphis boy. But while in Florida, we took one day and went to Disneyworld. My brother and I convinced my mom to ride Space Mountain. I'll never forget her description. She felt she had left some vital organs at the start of the ride. I also remember her earnest prayer during the entire ride. "Lord, if you get me off this thing, I'll never get on another." He delivered her, she kept her promise.

This park we went to on Saturday had a roller coaster. Mom, I think you could have done it. Slowly you creep to the top, then off you go down the rolling, curvy track. But on this ride, if you start to feel you are going too fast, you just pull the break. Want to go faster? Push the bar forward. The only danger, of course, is slamming into the back of a man and his small child who chose the slow speed.

Mom, thanks for being one of those moms who actually did stuff. Playing in softball games instead of just watching. Letting us skip a day of yearbook camp and driving us to New Orleans instead. Getting in the trunk of the car to fake me out that my brother was driving alone. I think of a million reasons I love you, but this one came to mind when I rode that roller coaster.