I think it's always hard to recreate life's "magic" moments, although it's probably easier in Disney World than anywhere else.
I have several magic Disney moments I love to relive in my mind, but know I could never get back. One afternoon when Disney World was beset by monsoon-like rains, and my parents let my sister and me (ages 10 and 12) go to the Magic Kingdom all by ourselves. It was the first time we'd been allowed that kind of freedom and trust, in a day long before cell phones or pagers, and we were overjoyed with our newfound wings. We spent half a day in the deserted park, drenched and laughing, with every indoor attraction seemingly reserved entirely for us, feeling like the most fortunate girls in the universe.
Some fifteen years later, we all came back to Disney World with our parents for the first time since that rain-soaked visit -- my sister and me now with husbands in tow. We stayed nearly a week, and our visit seemed charmed in every way, from the on-time flights to the restaurant tables that always seemed to "just open up" when we arrived, regardless of whether we had a reservation.
We all spent our last evening together in the Magic Kingdom, and were flying out early the next morning. We started watching "Wishes" (or whatever the fireworks show would have been called at that time) from a well-situated seating area near Tomorrowland, which was strangely deserted even though it was Easter break. My mother was, and remains, in failing health, and although no one had the courage to say it, we all knew that this would be the last time she'd have the mobility and energy to see Disney World, her favorite place on earth, and what an effort it was costing her to be there with us. Halfway through the fireworks, with the music swelling around us, Mom and Dad stood up and just started quietly slow-dancing to it. My parents are wonderful dancers, and there they were, holding onto each other and twirling slowly as the fireworks exploded above their heads and sparkled in their eyes. My husband and I looked at each other for a second, thinking to join them, but instead we just held hands and watched my parents dance with the castle shining behind them, not wanting to intrude on all the magical memories they were quietly celebrating -- and saying goodbye to -- in that moment.
I can never recreate the exhilaration or the beauty of those memories, nor would I ever try, but I can go back to the place where they were made, pay homage to them, and remember them anew. I know that when I pass through those turnstiles and see Cinderella's castle at the end of Main Street, those reflections and many others will descend upon me like old friends and leave me paralyzed for a moment, with tears I lack the words to explain -- it's happened every time I went to Disney World since my second visit at the age of 8 -- but I'll be so grateful to be back in the place that so many of my happiest memories call home.[/quo
What a beautiful story.
