A spontaneous day of rides, remembrance, and reconnecting with joy 😃
Volume 3, Issue 14
July 24, 2025
New Moon in Leo 🌑 ♌
Sun in Leo 🌞 ♌
New Moon Greetings, Dear Friends❣️
Three years after the seismic loss of Sierra that left a hole in my soul, I’ve begun to find grace by reclaiming how I approach the anniversary of her death. For the past two years, I gave myself space to grieve by stepping away from responsibilities and allowing whatever emotions needed to surface. But without a meaningful way to honor her, I often felt adrift in a puddle of sadness. While the grief itself was expected and welcomed, the lack of direction left me feeling heavy and lost. That didn’t feel right this year.
So I tried something different. I recruited my brother to join me for a day at Cedar Point, the amusement park that holds fond memories from our own childhood. My husband, who isn’t a fan of roller coasters or amusement parks, supported us from afar and honored the day in his way.
When our kids were younger, we’d sometimes go to Cedar Point as a big group—siblings and cousins filling the park with laughter and shared memories. It’s a place etched in our hearts, and for Sierra, it was a playground of pure joy. She was a roller coaster ride warrior, fearless and full of life. I was too, in my youth and it was something we loved doing together.
This year, we gathered our courage and chose to honor her in a more lighthearted way: by riding roller coasters all day long. We conjured up Sierra’s brave spirit and jumped right on the first ride we saw: the dragon-themed GateKeeper, followed by Millennium Force.
Unfortunately, my 55-year-old body did not approve of the back-to-back thrills—I got sick after the second ride and had to take a break. Lesson learned!
Then the rains came. We found refuge under a covered porch in Frontier Town, where we sat for nearly three hours while the storm passed. Despite the nausea and soggy weather, that time became one of the most meaningful parts of the day. We talked and reminisced about our childhoods, and about riding rides from open to close, about how our parents would settle into the Red Garter Saloon to eat, drink, and enjoy the entertainment while we roamed the park like young ride warriors. I remembered being the youngest, dragged onto every big coaster by my older brothers while terrified, exhilarated, and completely alive.
We talked about growing up, leaving home, and now, circling back to this place of joy to honor Sierra.
Once the rain let up, we wandered over to the First Aid station for some Dramamine and decided to ride the train around the park. With most rides still shut down, we thought we’d call it a day and began heading for the exit around 2:30 PM. But just then, the clouds broke and the rides began to reopen.
Should we rally? Ride a couple more? See if the Dramamine works. Hell yes! For Sierra!
We headed for the Cedar Creek Mine Ride, a smaller, family-style coaster built in 1969—the year I was born. It was the first coaster I ever rode with my parents, once I was tall enough. As kids, we’d ride it over and over until our parents finally made us stop.
We waited about ten minutes in line before boarding. I laughed, realizing how much smaller the seats felt now. Still, the vibe was pure joy. The ride staff hyped everyone up as the coaster reopened, and off we went through the covered bridge, then clickety-clacking up the first hill, sweeping over the swampy creek water and through gentle twists and turns. It was smoother and faster than I remembered, and just as magical.
What a thrill. So much fun. Just like I remembered.
As I rode, I was flooded with memories of riding with Sierra when she was little, of riding with my own parents as a child. The joy, the nostalgia—it all surged through my heart, making every moment of earlier nausea worth it. That ride became the highlight of the day.
Emboldened, my brother decided it was my turn to be convinced. For Sierra, he said. We rode Steel Vengeance, a record-breaking towering hyper-hybrid wood and steel coaster. It was tall, steep, fast, and intense, with three corkscrew twists and zero-gravity drops. I got sick again… but it was worth every second. For Sierra! She was with us in spirit.
After that, we gingerly made our way to the Cedar Point & Lake Erie Railroad and took the train back toward the exit, wobbling down the midway, laughing and reminiscing as we passed silly skeleton figures staged along the route. I’ve always had a soft spot for the skeleton bluegrass band.
As we walked out, we remembered simpler rides, such as the Cedar Downs Racing Derby (my childhood favorite), Calypso bumper cars, and Cadillac Cars that allowed kids to drive with their parents, along with all the kiddie rides that brought so much joy. We picked up some fudge for my brother’s girlfriend and left with full hearts.
It was a deeply successful day of celebrating Sierra and all the fun times we had as a family at Cedar Point. It didn’t feel heavy or sad. It felt right.
And something unexpected happened. Amid all the nostalgia, the day became about more than Sierra. It brought back the joy and excitement of growing up, of hearing our parents announce a day at the park. We weren’t raised in Ohio, but my dad grew up just down the road in Port Clinton, a small town on Lake Erie. We visited every summer and every holiday, playing with cousins, enjoying the lake, and always, always making time for Cedar Point.
So the day also became a tribute to our dad, who died in 2007. He was never happier than when he was taking his family on a fun day or vacation. I remembered the pride on his face, the joy in his laughter, and the love he poured into making memories with us.
I needed this day to step out of grief and daily pain, to forget the heaviness of the world, and to feel joy again. Even with the nausea and rain, it was a perfect day with my brother—one I’ll cherish always. It was a win for my heart and soul.
As we left, I wondered: Will I ever return with grandchildren or the next generation of our family? Sierra would be turning 30 next month. Many of her friends are starting families. My son is 22, with no plans for a relationship or kids and no interest in amusement parks, for that matter. But I do hope that one day I’ll get to share this magical place with the next generation.
Thank you for spending a few moments of your day with me. I hope this story inspires you to reconnect with joyful nostalgia in your own life. And if you’re grieving like I am, may it encourage you to invite in new, spontaneous ways of honoring your loved ones.
May your heart be full with the spirit of fond memories from the past.
Warmly,
Jennifer💫💖💫
Micro Mindfulness Practice: A Moment for Joyful Remembering 💞
Begin by arriving.
Take a deep breath in… and slowly exhale.
Feel your feet on the ground.
Let your shoulders drop.
Let your jaw soften.
Let your heart be here.
Now, bring to mind a joyful memory.
Someone you love.
A moment that made you laugh.
A place where you felt truly alive.
Breathe into that memory.
Notice what it stirs in your body.
A warmth in the chest?
A tingle of aliveness?
A gentle ache of missing?
Let all of it be welcome.
The joy.
The grief.
The love that holds them both.
With each breath, anchor in the gift of remembrance.
Let it soften your heart.
Let it connect you.
Let it carry you forward.
Take one more breath.
Place your hand over your heart if that brings you comfort.
Whisper a quiet thank you.
To the memory.
To the moment.
To the love that endures.
The Planets🪐
- New moon in Leo on July 24, 2025 🌑 ♌
- Venus in Gemini moves into Cancer on July 30, 2025 ♊ ➡️ ♋
- Mercury in Leo conjunct the Sun (Cazimi!) on July 31, 2025 ♌ 🌞
- Waxing half moon in Scorpio on August 1, 2025 🌓 ♏
- Mars in Virgo moves into Libra on August 6, 2025 ♍ ➡️ ♎
- Full moon in Aquarius on August 9, 2025 🌕 ♒
🌄 Sunrise today in Cleveland is at 6:14 am
🌇 Sunset today in Cleveland at 8:52 pm
New Moon in Leo Intentions: I open my heart to joyful remembrance, allowing grief and love to coexist without judgment. I intend to create space for spontaneous moments of healing—welcoming laughter, lightness, and nostalgia as sacred companions on the path of loss. And I choose to honor those I miss not only through tears, but through presence, connection, and the courage to keep living fully in their memory.
Current Offerings – Planet Prana Meditation Space 🌿
Live Group Meditation On Zoom August 11, 2025
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