“A daughter may outgrow your lap, but she will never outgrow your heart.” – Author Unknown
“Do you remember years ago when I tried to throw that piece of paper into the trash can from the ski lift ride? The attendant who saw me do it banned me from the ride for the rest of the day!”
My daughter grinned at me from the passenger seat of my Chevy Blazer and replied, “That was really embarrassing.”
Laughing, I said, “Good thing we were ready to leave anyway.”
It was early in the morning and we were driving to Adventureland in Des Moines, Iowa. We’ve made the trip to the amusement park almost annually since my daughter was six years old. Now she was nearing her 20th birthday and I had feared those fun filled days hanging out with her might be over for good. That was until last Father’s day when she surprised me with two tickets to the park. My heart leaped. “I can’t wait to go,” I said. “It will be just like the good old days.”
When we arrived, a park worker asked if we wanted our picture taken. I put my arm around my daughter and we both smiled big. A few minutes later we found ourselves at the Funnel Cake Factory sitting at a table in the sun planning our day. I brushed some sugar off of my chin. “I think we should go over to the Raging River first before the line gets too long. Then, maybe the Log Ride. What do you think?”
She took a sip of lemonade. “Sounds good too me. After that we’ll ride the roller coasters to dry off.”
We knew what we were doing.
At one of the roller coasters there was one of those signs with a line on it. “You must be this tall to ride,” it said. I told my daughter that I remembered when she was too short. A little while later we found ourselves at the magic show. The magician skillfully made his assistant disappear into thin air. We were impressed. Then the magician started to do his rope trick. It was the same rope trick that he’d performed in previous years. My daughter grinned at me and I could tell that she remembered.
We ate cheeseburgers at the Soda and Sounds. We rode on the Underground, the G-Force, and the Inverter. And who could go to Adventureland and not ride the Silly Silo, the Galleon, Lady Luck, and the Ferris Wheel?
My daughter asked, “Do you remember that time when your sunglasses flew off your face on the Space Shot? You’d better take them off this time.”
When I heard the train whistle I told her that I wanted to ride it. She shot me an incredulous look.
“Let’s do it.” I said. “It’s a tradition for us to ride the train.” So we did. As we rode through the trees and over the bridge, I nudged her with my elbow. “Thanks for coming here with me today.”
“No problem.” She said. “It’s been fun.”
And it was. It was a good day- one of those rare ones that I got to spend entirely with my daughter. I have to admit that when I thought it might be the last at Adventureland, I felt a little sad. “You know,” I told her, “Next year we could come back, or maybe we could go to the Wisconsin Dells or Chicago. Somewhere.”
“That sounds good to me, Dad.”
We visited the souvenir shops and then we picked up our picture. It turned out great and we decided to have it made into a key chain. As we walked toward the gate to leave, I paused for a moment to soak it all in. The Ferris Wheel caste long shadows in the late afternoon sunlight. I could hear the hiss and rumble of the Space Shot in the distance. A little girl was running and laughing.
“Are you ready to go?” asked my daughter.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m just taking one last look. One last look to remember.”