The Amusement Park: Power of Anticipation and Change

A roller-coaster slow-motion ride start in stark contrast to the chilling speed of accelerating downward, illustrating the power of anticipation. How fast? We scream with delight, fear, a change in our heartbeat, and perhaps relief to reach the bottom for a break, a calmness.

Never a fan of amusement parks, the fear of fast rides, preferring mellower options like the gentler motion up and down of a merry-go-round, hearing the music, maybe a Ferris wheel, or teacups. My beloved sister Jane adored amusement parks and insisted on an annual pilgrimage to Paragon Park in Hull, MA, on the cusp of Nantasket Beach, prior to our eight-week summer venture off to overnight camp. The moment the immense roller coaster was visible, Jane screamed with delight. I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of a day at the park, but I went along. I don’t recall why Margie did not join us. I believe she attended a day camp. Overnight camp was not Margie’s forte.

Little did I know fifty-four years ago how the sudden change in seconds on an amusement ride rang true to the sudden change in life. Nine years after our last visit to the park in 1972, on November 7, 1981, I received a phone call that in seconds changed my life. The news that Jane died. Something I never anticipated, and not the doorbell ringing on August 1, 1990, with the news of Margie’s death.

The themes of the memories of Paragon Park remain today. Jane and I were opposites, yet as sisters undeniably shared common threads. Me, the shy, tentative, introvert, more of a homebody, Jane, full of celebration, outgoing, and pushed the limits. My vocation to become a teacher halted due to Proposition 2 ½ in the 1970s. Jane loved to work with young children. Her namesake, my daughter Janie, carried down the legacy and became a teacher.

Much like the roller coaster, anticipation, awaiting the birth of children/grandchildren, changed my life, and gifts I treasure daily. Each arrival, the immense joy, changed a past of challenges and tragedies to hope, coupled with sadness, cojoined to honor both. Like the amusement park rides, the smiles, excitement, thrills, and disappointment of completion of a ride mirror the contrast of noise and quiet, mirror a life of grief, love, joy, and change.

Receiving an email notification stating we accept your manuscript for publication is a truly wow moment. Voices in my head, the self-doubt, the hours worked, yet knew down deep, finally having a voice, sharing Margie and Jane, advocating for sibling loss, outweighed it all.

Inevitably, the tragedies and challenges I’ve experienced changed me, but at the core I remain Judy. I am the middle of three sisters, the introvert, shy, insecure girl. I rely on Margie and Jane, their lives, and the memories to guide me, provide courage, and hope.