…or so the old Beatles song begins. This weekend, I spent time in a place with my family and friends that brings back amazing memories. And yes, it happens to be a place that some call “the happiest place on earth.” Although I don’t know that I would necessarily agree with that designation completely, it is the scene of a multitude of happy memories revolving around my son, my husband, my mom, and my mother-in-law (who passed away much too young 10 years ago).
Today, my husband completed his 20th consecutive Walt Disney World marathon. For the first ten of those 20 years, the four people mentioned above (along with me) spent marathon weekend every January in the Disney universe. My mother-in-law was always her happiest here in this place where reality seems to fade away. Cartoons come to life, colors seem brighter, streets cleaner, smiles broader. Even waiting in line can become an adventure.
It’s a place where Pluto spends 30 minutes playing hide and seek with your 5-year-old son in the lobby while the check-in is delayed. It’s Snow White kissing him on the cheek in the middle of the parade. It’s the first time he is tall enough to ride Space Mountain, my mother with us, and my mother -in-law waiting in her favorite spot outside. It’s all five of us waving napkins in the air and dancing with Mickey Mouse at Chef Mickey’s restaurant.
It is, between us, 24 marathons (husband: 20; me:3; my son, one, his first, completed today with his dad on the 20th anniversary). It is four-parks-in-one day. It is loving friends who traveled with us this weekend to take the place of those “two grandmas”- as my son used to say.
This place will always mean these people to me. Which means it will always mean love.
If you want to write:
Write about your memories of a place that are really more about the people than the physical place itself. Or, write about the specifics of a place that make it unlike any other place you know.