We're going on vacation. No kids; just husband and me. And no visits to the fair. All the same, as I pack, I'm filled the same excitement I remember from childhood days. Knowing there'd be rides, and money to spend, and the freedom to choose which ride to spend it on. Except of course, in the beginning I was too small. Big brother got to go on cars where he really turned the wheel, and really crashed. Me, I rode on solid rails wherever the world said I had to.
I remember the sudden freedom inspired by a ride that let me raise and lower my plane. The roundabout would start and I'd pull my throttle back. Up, up into the sky, and there I'd fly. My brother thought I was mad. I might as well have been on a ride that forced me to stay up high, but for me it was the freedom that mattered. I could have come down if I'd wanted. I did as I chose.
Then there were roller coasters and the delight of being tall enough to join the excited line. I felt so brave. There was Nemesis where I was strapped in as tight as the seat anchored to the rails. There was the Big One. Free from gravity!
And then I got older... so, like I said, no fairgrounds on this vacation. Just sea and scenery and maybe whales... sounds good to me. Writing about it all reminds me though... and the years and restrictions and rules slide away and life's fair and I'm always free.