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Janel T.
Instructor Dayle Turner
English 100, Group D
9/13/94
The Rollercoaster Ride
Roller coaster rides are symbolic--up and down, down and up,
rising and plunging, turning and twisting. Life is like that.
It's not uncanny either. Sometimes you're the king on top of the
world, other times you're the peasant at the bottom of a ditch.
I observed this concept in day to day to life. People are
unpredictable. Just when I thought I figured someone out, I
found out that I really hadn't. And just when I thought I
figured out what life is about, the horror of reality slaps me in
the face leaving me hurt, lost, and confused but at the same time
fascinated at what just happened.
Two weeks ago, I recall watching my next door neighbor and
his lovely wife at a local carnival. As the proceeded to get on
the Wildcat ride, I noted how happy they were together and how
perfect their lives seemed to be. How Haumea, the husband, and
Keala, the wife, loved each other and their four children. I
thought I had them figured out.
That was two weeks ago.
After I received this assignment, I pondered over what to
write. As I sat in my bedroom last week thinking, I heard
yelling from next door. It was Haumea and Keala. I couldn't
believe they were fighting. I rushed to my window to try and
understand the conflict. Harsh words were exchanged and an hour
later it was safe to conclude (judging from the content of their
conversation) that Keala was having an affair and she was moving
out. Disbelief was the first thing that ran through my mind. I
could not explain the confusion that ate at me, driving me wild
with curiosity.
Haumea was in his garage the next day, singing songs that
would make Mickey Mouse depressed and wearing a facial expression
that would make a hound dog look like the happiest thing on
earth. I approached him. "Hello, how are you?" I asked
sheepishly. And thus began our conversation.
We had chatted before, small talk mostly. But I could tell
that this conversation was going to be different. "You eva been
in love befoa, Janel?" he asked. "Not any kine. Da
unconditional kine. You know what I mean?"
I said no, and I as I answered him I could feel the hurt he
felt and I could hear the pain which screamed throughout his
soul.
In the tears that flowed endlessly from his tired eyes, he
wearily and humbly continued to question me: "Where I went
wrong? What I wen do for make her hate me? How come I always
fail? When the pain going pau?"
Why did he think his behavior was reprehensible? He
disparaged his actions as well as himself. This was the same man
who brought flowers home to his wife every day. This was the
same man who never argued or questioned his wife. This was the
same man who had never intentionally brought physical pain or
abuse upon his wife or children. Haumea lived to bring Keala
everlasting peace and happiness. Haumea always had a kind word
for his children. Life was unperturbed and orderly in his
household.
He expressed his love for his wife and children and then
told me to never fall in love because he didn't want to see a
"sweet girl like me get hurt." Sternly he then preached to me
about being kind and sensitive to boys' feelings.
As his guitar slid off his lap and his hand wiped the tears
from his rubicund cheeks, my mind searched frantically for words
of comfort, words of compassion, words of encouragement. But all
I could manage was an enigmatic smile and the only words I could
muster up was, "It's not your fault. Everything will be okay."
But it wasn't going to be okay and we both knew it. Little
could be done to ease his pain. Two weeks earlier who would have
imagined? He had everything going for him back then--lovely
wife, good kids, steady job, financial stability, a home. Now
Keala was gone. Right like that, she packed up and took off.
She left behind her children, her husband, her vows, and didn't
turn around to view the damage that was done.
Twenty years of marital bliss gone. She had succumbed to
iniquity and I felt antipathy against her. Her pleasant nature
and love for her husband were obviously superficial and it seemed
as if she always knew vows would be transient. The bond was
broken and their home was not a home anymore, only a house.
Poor Haumea, I imagined how he was feeling. It seemed as if
the misery and torment could never be expunged from his soul. he
had hit rock-bottom and the only other way was up. He would need
to rise and climb back up, just like the rollercoaster that had
plunged. I suppose he learned and grew through the experience,
but he wasn't the only one, nor was Keala. The taught me
something, too. I learned. Yup, I learned.
I learned the subtle difference between holding a hand and
chaining a soul. I learned that love doesn't mean lasting and
company never meant security. I learned that presents weren't
promises and kisses aren't contracts. I learned that people
should build their roads on today because tomorrow's ground is
too uncertain for plans and futures do fall down in mid-flight.
We must accept our defeats, eyes open and head up. Even sunshine
burns if we get too much. So I learned that we shouldn't wait
for someone to bring us flowers--we must plant our own gardens
and decorate our own souls. For this is how we learn to endure,
to be strong; this is how we learn that we really do have worth.
And to be our best, we must remain unspotted from the world.
Haumea and the kids are gone now; they moved out yesterday.
The house--which was once a home--resembles Haumea's heart:
empty. It reminded me of something I recalled hearing in Sunday
School one week. There needs to be opposition in all things;
what goes up comes down and sometimes no matter what you do "even
the fruits of victory turn out to be ashes in our mouths." I
learned just how true these statements are and just how symbolic
that rollercoaster ride two weeks ago was.
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