My oldest granddaughter wanted to go on a ride; she wasn’t tall enough to go by herself. Her mom offered. I offered. And my mom offered. So we left phones behind, certain we’d get at least damp, and meandered toward boarding Mystic River Falls. It’s a raft ride, so passengers twirl around in their circular raft while drifting under waterfalls, sliding into pools, and even riding what looks like a raft elevator before sliding around and down a long chute, creating a wall of water at the bottom.

We all loaded and buckled in, and away we went. We all got wet, but my mom got the bulk of the water. It seemed every time we thought she’d avoid a waterfall or splash, the raft turned, and more water rushed around her. Seeing my granddaughter giggle and squeal was priceless. Sometimes it was at her great-grandma’s expense, since she was absolutely drenched by the time we were done. She was a good sport. How many people her age have no hesitation when the opportunity comes up to jump on a ride with four generations?

We took a breath of relief after the grand finale splash near the end of the ride, but we didn’t realize the gentle loop back to the starting point held one more danger. There was a large squirt gun people on dry land could pay to shoot water at unsuspecting strangers. One more shower, and of course, it primarily hit my mom.

I have no photo proof we all rode the ride, because (thankfully) we left our phones with family. But we all have our own proof. We’ll all remember it slightly differently through the years, and that’s okay. We shared an experience together while separated by decades. We value it with different perspectives even though we shared a raft. And even though we dried off fairly quickly, the memories will last much longer.

Ride the ride. Spent the time. Share life. Treasure memories while making more.