Ride the Rollercoaster

At another painful time in my life, OtherHalf made the observation to a good friend who was hurting, that we each have a choice in life. We can choose to ‘ride the rollercoaster’, but then have to take the gut-wrenching lows with the exhilarating highs. Or we can choose not to… and walk safely on the flat all the time, experiencing neither highs nor lows.

These past few days, I haven’t felt much like riding the rollercoaster at all. I’ve read other wonderful blog entries from Annette, Christine, Stacey and others, who are inspired to make the effort to connect more, to tell our friends how much they mean to us. I’m not feeling that. I’m feeling an overwhelming desire to curl up into a ball and stay firmly on the flat, where I can’t be hurt anymore. I can’t say why Laura’s death is affecting me so much. Perhaps because she is the first new friend I’ve made in so long. It seems that much more difficult to take those first steps in a new friendship again.

But Christine posted a link to an article which is making me rethink the rollercoaster ride just a little bit. Specifically, this bit:

[Tommy] Lasorda, the longtime manager of the Los Angeles Dodgers, had a son who died in his early 20s. The death rocked Tommy, but in time he was able to talk about it at the many banquets to which he was invited.

He’d say he met God one afternoon and God told Tommy He had some news for him, good news and bad news. “I need some good news, God,” Tommy said, so God told him, “Tommy, I’m giving you a baby boy.”

“A baby boy!” Tommy exclaimed. “Oh, God, thank you, that’s the best news I’ve ever had.”

“There’s more,” God said, and he told Tommy, “You can only have him for 23 years.”

Tommy’s response was immediate.

“Give me the boy, God, please give me the boy!”

References to deity aside, the message here is so vital. If I lost OtherHalf tomorrow, would the 11 years we’ve had together be worth the immeasurable pain? If I lost Finn, would I give back the 3 years of having him with me, just to stop the pain?

I would never give back the time I had with either, just to avoid the pain. As fleeting as the highs might be, they are always worth experiencing. Knowing Laura for such a short time was worth this pain, even though it is hard to see that now.

So maybe I do have to get back on the rollercoaster. Maybe I have to take the risks to make the highs matter even more. Maybe I do have to stretch out my hand and tell people how wonderful they are.

I can’t promise I’ll feel like it for a while yet, but I do promise to try.