The summer vacation season has come to an end, and I wrapped it up with my daughter as we spent a few days at Cedar Point, an amusement park jam-packed with thrilling roller coasters. Not only was this a chance to relive a few moments from my own childhood when I traipsed through an amusement park with my cousins, it was also an opportunity to have some valuable one-on-one time with my oldest child, who isn’t really a child anymore. In between the rides and bites of what amounts to nothing more than carnival-style food, we chatted about anything and everything from TV shows to books to life in general.
As the kids get older, I can feel time slipping away. Their orbit around my wife and me is expanding and the gravitational pull that once held us tightly together has weakened. They are finding their own path, slowly but surely, and it no longer depends on us. In many ways, this is rewarding, but in other ways, it’s sad, an end of a phase of our lives that we never thought would end. When you have kids, you throw your whole being into it. You give yourself up entirely. The love you feel for them is all-consuming. It’s like running a long race that you can never finish.
So, I try to find ways to reconnect, to relate, knowing that it will fall short because the relationship between parents and teenagers is meant to be angst-filled, a dramatic, slow-motion removal of a sticky bandage. My kids are very different from each other and relating to them requires different approaches. My son is testing out his masculinity, expressed through mindless video games that I no longer get, but I listen to him prattle on about them even if it doesn’t resonate just to hear the sound of his voice. My daughter, cerebral and wise well beyond her years, requires a different approach. We bond over books, writing, running and solving the injustices in the world. Her thoughts and conversations can be very deep, but sometimes, I get a glimpse of the little girl I once knew when I see her watching Moana on her phone.
Many years ago when my daughter was much younger, we were at Disney World, and she had just passed the height requirement to ride Space Mountain. That ride happens to be the first ride I ever rode at Disney World, and while it’s not particularly strenuous by today’s thrill ride standards, it’s aggressive for a young kid. I was worried about how she would handle the ride, but she was so gung-ho about it and so excited to ride a big kid roller coaster that I couldn’t say no, so we rode it together. She sat behind me in the ride, and the whole time I kept my hand on her leg both to comfort her and me. At the end of the ride, she practically giggled with delight. She enjoyed it so much, and I enjoyed it, too, more so because of the sheer joy it brought to her. I bought the in-ride picture they took of us on the coaster to commemorate the event. In the picture we’re both smiling from ear-to-ear and her wild hair flutters in her wake. It’s how I always picture her as a little girl, my little daredevil.
A few years later, I took her to Six Flags outside Los Angeles on a daddy-daughter trip, and we spent the whole day riding some serious roller coasters including Goliath. She was fearless, tackling each ride with the gusto that made me proud. Hearing her squeal with excitement and react in amazement at what she just did made my day. I’ll never forget the look on her face as we careened around corners on Goliath, an expression of youthful fearlessness and hesitant excitement. With each return to a coaster terminal, she expressed her desire to do it again. Daredevil indeed.
As such, it seemed only fitting that we’d return to our shared love of thrill rides one more time this past week. We descended upon Cedar Point late Saturday afternoon expecting a packed house, but we happened upon a lull in the crowds because the weather had been suspect. We managed to ride almost all of the coasters in a five-hour span starting with Wicked Twister and ending with The Raptor. As we walked out of the park that first night, the adrenaline still pumping from all of the rides, we talked about what we’d ride the next day. I caught a glimpse of that little girl I remember so well from Space Mountain. She’s changed a lot since then, but some things never change.