Reflecting on a Rollercoaster

Though terribly cliché, analogizing life to an amusement park ride is perhaps one of the easiest and most appropriate analogies one can make; our existence is the proverbial roller coaster. You are first grouped together with a number of others who, while they will share the experience with you, may view the ride very differently. You're locked in, and then it begins as you ascend with excitement, anticipation and anxiety. You'll reach a peak, only to be thrust downward unexpectedly and harshly. You'll travel rapidly through both highs and lows, around turns and through twists, often to find yourself upside down, only to be righted once more. The ride continues in this fashion, taking your breath away, exhilarating you, frightening you, enticing you and jerking you around throughout the duration of the trip until, suddenly, it all comes to an abrupt halt. The past week of my life only served to confirm the comparison, as I myself took one hell of a ride from Sunday to Sunday.

 

The week began with the gut-wrenching process of proffering an offer to purchase a house. Buying a home is a life-changing event under any examination, but for me it means a little bit more. For me, it's the last step in reclaiming myself from the unpleasantness of divorce. I in no way mean to disparage my ex, but the simple truth is that divorce is ugly business even when the parties are in agreement. It is emotionally draining and often forces one to examine one's self under the scrutinizing microscope of self-judgment and regret. It's taken time but I'd been able to move past that and for me this home purchase represents my ability to purge the past fully and completely; the apartment in which I've lived for nearly two years is the last vestige of my marriage, and my divorce. It was where I was, for lack of a better term, forced to reside in the wake of our split and served as an everyday reminder of why I was there in the first place.

 

The whole purchasing process has been cathartic. I'm doing something for me, and me alone. My new home will be mine, and mine alone. The choice to buy this particular home likewise belongs to me and no other. And it will be an extension of me; a representation of my persona, and will reflect my personal uniqueness. To make it so, however, required a trip to Buffalo to obtain my final divorce papers, file them with the county clerk, and deliver them to my mortgage broker as proof of my financial and marital independence. Over the course of several days the purchase offer was negotiated and accepted, mortgage application filed, and home inspected. In a little over a month's time, my home will be my proverbial castle, a peak in my rollercoaster life.

 

The week saw other highs, one in which I was able to spend the day with my sister, just the two of us, something we rarely have an opportunity to do. We were able to discuss candidly our respective highs and lows, share, and laugh. Later in the week we'd gather again to celebrate her birthday amongst family and friends, a testament to the lives she's touched through her years.

 

Though the week brought highs and twists and turns, and the accompanying excitement and anxiety, it would take a decided downturn and bring me to a low, as I lost my grandmother yesterday. She was ninety years old, and every bit the tough old Italian grandmother that she was right up until the end. Shamefully I probably didn't visit as often as I should have, and as a result feel a great deal of guilt for feeling the anguish that I do. Notwithstanding, my grandmother was an incredible woman. Witty, sarcastic, and caring to a fault, she loved each and every one of her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren in the only manner she knew – unconditionally. The emotional low of losing her is tempered by the emotional high of known she'll be reunited with my grandfather to continue their love eternally. And that makes me smile.

 

There were also other twists and turns I need not mention here; suffice it to say that even the extreme examples of emotional trauma and bliss I mentioned above were not all that affected me in the span of eight days from Sunday to Sunday. If nothing else, it just goes to show that the ride upon which I've embarked is an unpredictable one. There will be more highs and lows, more twists and turns, and I have no doubt I'll find myself upside down a time or two again. There will be times I'll scream in terror, and those in which I'll shriek with delight. Up and down, round and round I'll go until my ride finally stops.

 

My purpose in writing this is simple – to remind each of you that we all have our own rollercoasters to ride. It's perfectly acceptable to be afraid, to be happy, sad, excited or remorseful. You'll reflect on differ aspects of your ride, but no matter how you reflect, how you feel, or how you cope, you will have braved the journey. Never forget that you needn't do any of the above alone. The coaster cars are filled with outers situated so very similarly but vastly differently than you. They are there to join you, and you them, as you traverse the rollercoaster of life together. Learn from one another, lean and rely on one another, and acknowledge one another, and I think you'll find the ride to be that much more tolerable, if not downright enjoyable, despite the stomach turning dips and sharp turns the route may take.

 

This is just a snapshot of my rollercoaster. At times I held my hands in the air and at others held on so tightly my knuckles whitened from the strain. I am blessed to know that I've not ridden alone, and I am grateful for that comforting fact. I cannot predict the path that the track I'm on will follow, but I'm strapped in for the duration. You are too, whether you're sharing my excursion around the track or you're waiting for the next train. Appreciate it for what it is, join together with those around you, and embrace it.

 

It's a helluva ride.

 

 

~ In loving memory of my grandmother ~

 

 

© 2015 J.J. Goodman. All rights reserved.