Roller Coasters

Bryan, Mom and Me at Magic Mountain 1982?

Bryan and Reilly Vegas 1998

The little ticker/counter thingie on the side of this blog says it has been one month since my brother died. That feels too raw. Too real. So for today, I am pretending that we are still living in Chico or the Bay area again and Bryan and I only see each other once a year at the holidays. I am forgetting the part where I did not get to spend the holidays with my him this year. I am forgetting all the ugly stuff today. You may call that denial (step three in the five steps of grieving--who made that stuff up? what on earth is "acceptance"?) but I call it survival. I cannot cry another tear today and I need to be "normal" for my kids. Okay? Pray this works out for me. I will let you know tomorrow.

Here is my story:

Bryan was not always the risk-taker, adventurous, dare-devil kinda-guy that he was as a man. (Sorry bro, I am letting the cat outta the bag!) When we went to Knott's Berry Farm or Magic Mountains as kids, he would wait in line for The Revolution or Montezuma's Revenge but he always chickened out at the last minute. He had to walk back down with all the people looking at him. No way! I went on, if only for my pride :). My mom and I liked the scary stuff. When I was younger. Bryan was a cautious, reticent, even shyish little boy. I'm serious. Okay, he did ride his Big Wheels down the stairs when he was four but I really think that was unintentional.

Anyway, fast forward a dozen years (or more) and check us out in Las Vegas: the whole family piled into my parent's new van. Bryan and his girlfriend, my parents, Bob, Reilly and me --that is a LOT of people headed to Sin City. Bryan wanted to show us a good time, and on the way, he convinced us that this Mile High/Long Roller Coaster outside of Vegas was a MUST! Remembering that my tastes for speed and coasters always ran a little faster than my younger brother, I agreed to go for it. He sat next to me in the seat and laughed the ENTIRE way down, down, down. I cried. I screamed. I begged it to stop.

Now, I think it should be noted that as a new momma, mortality and maternal instincts and other such things were all contributing to this uncharacteristic FEAR. I wanted to get off sooooooo bad. I tried the Universal Sign for indicating that the ride should be stopped--my hand over my mouth. NOTHING worked. And my brother laughed and laughed and laughed. So much for my pride!