A few years back, I wrote a post about roller coasters. And how they used to be fun.
When I was young, the thrill of the ride and the racing heart while we went through the loop-de-loops was exhilarating.
These days, when my heart races, it's typically because something difficult is happening.
I don't remember signing up for all of this responsibility. My friend told me the other day it was in the fine print.
It's just funny how life can shift in a split second.
A few days ago, I was out for a walk on a peaceful evening, enjoying the scenery, using my imagination to find shapes in the clouds.
I stopped and stared at this one in the picture for a few minutes that day, enjoying the sunshine on my face and the beauty of the world around me. It made me smile.
I see a heart - do you?
The next day was a whirlwind, ending in an emergency trip to the hospital with my son and surgery the following morning to remove his appendix.
Two nights in the hospital, sleeping on the pullout bed that brought back all of the memories of our visit there last summer.
As I walked the halls to the cafeteria, I remembered the fear I felt the last time we were there.
I passed the chapel where I had gone so I could cry and pray for us to get the answers we needed to bring him back to health.
This time, our visit was for something much more routine. Predictable, dealt with every day.
It was easier to be calm and logical.
It didn't take away his pain or diminish the fact that it sucked to be there, but it helped.
Work was tabled for a few days, logistics shuffled around, and we had to watch the track meet for my older son virtually instead of being there for him.
Which sucked too - but sometimes in life we have to make tough choices.
This morning, we're back at home. He's still asleep, grateful to be in his comfy bed and not woken up every few hours by the nurses to poke and prod him.
I'm writing and enjoying the peace and quiet.
The roller coaster of life is always running.
Like it or not, we have to ride it.
I'm sure the next big drop is not far off, and I'll probably not be ready for it.
But when it does happen, and the floor falls out from under me, I'll try to remember that it's only temporary.
Things will level out again and be calm after awhile.
And maybe, just maybe, there will be a beautiful view of the clouds from the top.
Clouds in shapes that make me smile.
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