Last October we visited my sister at San Antonio, Texas.
Halloween was in the air. Kids insisted we visit Sea World as Six Flags was closed (well, there’s nothing much else to do there besides the River walk). That being Halloween, the theme park, besides its usual rides, was hosting a set of horror houses that evening. And oh yes, we had to see what they had to offer.
I am not a big fan of horror, but I was not going to let my kids go alone into a horror house in the wild Wild West.
Yes, they are teenagers, but what kind of a mother would I be sending them alone into rooms full of older teenagers, high on Halloween and horror. So I got a ticket too and went in with them.
The house we chose was themed on a hospital. It had dim lit corridors with characters dressed up in bandages lounging around, following you when you are not looking, catching you unaware, freaking you out, a laugh there, a scream here – I should admit, they had put on quite a show.
Dark corners and narrow corridors were filled with some fright or the other. A touch on your shoulder could guarantee the most ghastly looking face staring at you.
It was nerve wracking, but when we emerged out into that cold October night we were laughing.
Now that the images were behind, only memories remained and a sense of having enjoyed the experience.
It strikes me that life feels like this at times.
We go through phases where every turn is a scare and we have no clue what is around the next corner. We walk through the path not knowing where it leads. We pray for the day when things will be different while we go through the grind. It is frightening to think about the future and you feel powerless with the only option being braving through that narrow dark corridor.
The difference is, we don’t eagerly anticipate what’s coming next; we are rather anxious.
We forget that there is a star filled cool night waiting for us at the end of it where all this becomes a memory. And it always ends right.
How this ride can be more serene if we only remembered that…