Opryland and Six Flags with Dad

Starting when I was 5 or 6, Dad and I would go to an amusement park once a year. Just me and him. It started out at Opryland in Tennessee, but after they closed down we we went to Six Flags over Georgia. We stopped going when I was in high school and had sports galore every weekend and we just couldn't find the time anymore. I looked forward to this every single year and I have many cherished memories from these trips.  I don't have very many memories of Opryland, but I do have one.

It was the first year that we ever went, and I was really young. I wasn't quite tall enough to ride some of the bigger rollercoasters, but there was one that I could go on. It was called the Screamin' Delta Demon. It didn't go upside down or anything. It actually looked like a water ride, but with no water. So we were walking up to get to the ride, and another little girl and her Dad were walking out of the entrance- the girl was boo-hooing. She was really crying hard. I looked up at Dad and asked why she was crying. He told me, "This ride must be really scary. She must have just gotten off of it and is still scared!" So I was terrified. I started saying that I didn't want to go on it and I almost started crying myself. Then he started telling me not to be a sissy like that other girl and that we were going on the ride. A couple years later while we were at Opryland again, I asked Dad if he remembered that girl crying coming out of the ride. He said yeah, but that she was probably just not tall enough to ride and was upset because she couldn't go on it. But he though it would be funny to see me get scared like that little girl and make me go on it anyways. I definitely learned fearlessness and strength from my dad. Even if he taught it to me in unconventional ways that would give him a good laugh, I learned to try everything I wanted to at least once, and to not let fear stop me from doing anything in my life. 

Six Flags stories

My dad smoked from the time he was around 14. I hated it so much growing up. He did it in the fireplace inside the house, he did it in the car. Looking back, it wasn't AS bad as I thought it was. Our clothes never reeked of smoke like some kids do that have parents that smoke. But I still hated it. So one year for our annual trip, I told Dad that the only thing I wanted all day was for him not to smoke. Obviously, he couldn't say no. So he went and bought one of those patches and we were off for Six Flags. Now, amusement parks aren't the most relaxing of places. And for a smoker that is used to lighting one up when he got stressed out; I'm sure it was very hard. I vaguely remember him getting pretty grumpy by lunchtime. It was right after a late lunch, probably around 2 or 3, and he sat me down on the rock wall that lines the walkways at Six Flags. He said, "Ashley, you know how much Daddy loves you right? But I just really need to have a cigarette right now." At the time, I was crushed. He just couldn't do it. But I am proud to say that before he died, he had quit smoking cigarettes.  

When I was in 8th grade, Dad got a Mazda Miata. It was a black soft top convertible. That summer when we went down to Six Flags, we rode the whole way with the top down. Once we got there, Dad left the top down and the KEYS IN THE CAR in the parking lot of Six Flags. We were getting ready to go into the park and I was freaking out. I asked him- "Dad, what if somebody takes the car?" His answer? I guess it'll take a little longer getting home tonight......

There used to be a ride at Six Flags that had something to do with dragons. It might have been called dueling dragons or something like that. All it did was one loop, but you would go forward and then you would go backward doing the loop too. It was in the back corner of the park, and there was hardly anybody in line for it. One year, it was particularly crowded, so we stayed and rode that rollercoaster over and over and over again. I'm pretty sure that ride isn't there anymore, but it sure holds alot of memories for me and Dad.

This memory is kind of fuzzy, but when I was in high school Mom and Dad bought a camper. I'm pretty sure it was from the 1960's- complete with the shag carpet and groovy upholstery. The last year we went to Six Flags together, I'm pretty sure we took the camper. It was really fun. When it was time for lunch, we just came back to the camper and sat in the air conditioning, eating our food and watching some crappy local television show. We rarely ate at the park. Mom usually packed us a lunch to take. There was always baked beans in there. It used to gross me out that Dad would just eat them straight out of the can, but now I actually prefer them that way. Back to the story.. when it was time for us to come home, Dad decided he would take a shortcut. We got so lost. So, so lost. I mentioned that this camper was from the 1960s (ish)... Dad was so afraid the whole time that the camper was going to break down. He tried not to show this, but he was. I don't exactly remember how that story ended, except we finally made it home and it was definitely an adventure for the books.

I might add onto this Six Flags list as more things come to me... There are close to 10 years worth of memories that I just can't all think of right now.

My Dad

So... I haven't written in a while. There's been alot going on in my simple, small world. First, the infamous Alabama tornadoes hit, and we didn't have power for a week; then, something happened that has changed my life forever. My dad died. I know people's parents die every day. And people's husbands and wives. And children. I have really struggled with allowing myself to grieve over this. I have never been in the position where I am the one hurting the most. I've never had anybody REALLY close to me die. Or even get really sick. The pain that I feel over my dad is a completely, utterly new experience for me. I haven't blamed God or gotten mad at God. I have wondered "Why?" a few times, but I know I will never have that answer. I am trying to lean on God and place all my trust and worries in Him, but it has been hard. Monday will be 3 weeks. As with most things in life, it feels like it could've been a year ago but it also feels like it happened yesterday. My life has not gotten back to normal. Somebody told me that I needed to start expecting a "new" normal. I'm not sure I know what that means yet- but I'm trying.

Since this happened, I have had constant memories running through my head of the 25 years that Dad and I had together. Some are happy, some are sad, alot are funny. I'm remembering some things that I haven't thought about in years. But it's like I've been clinging onto these memories for therapy. I'm terrified of forgetting any one of them. So, as a new therapy, along with a new-found goal of straightening out my prayer and meditation life with God, I have decided to start writing down every memory I can think of with my Dad in it. Some might be kind of boring; but I need to make sure I don't forget ANYTHING.

They will only be under the Label "Dad" because I don't want to start a new blog. I will probably get back into writing about other things too, because as I said earlier- I have to get back into my "new normal," and life still goes on, but for a while I will just be writing about my Dad.

"Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul" Psalm 143