The Happiest Place on Earth

The holidays are a magical time in general.  Add Disney World to it and there are just no words.  Disney, as a kid, seems amazing; like all of your dreams are coming true in front of your little eyes.  But as a parent?  My God, it’s like a religious experience to give your children those moments.  Watching them smile the most genuine smiles to have ever crossed their mouths and the light that dances in their eyes watching the fireworks and meeting the characters that have filled their TV screens? It’s absolutely epic. 

Christmas (all three installments of it) was a whirlwind.  For the most part it was really great.  Christmas Eve at Sean’s mom’s house was great, though when we sat the kids down for their yearly jammie photo it just about killed me to see them so grown up, and made my heart simultaneously swell and break to see my baby boy in there with them but his big brother still missing.  The big reveal of our trip Christmas morning was absolutely amazing especially since Kennedy was more thrilled by the fact that Carter would go to Disney for his first time (mind you, this would be her first trip too!).  We caught it on camera and it was seriously the stuff Disney World commercials are made of.  The rest of the day went by alright except that I didn’t get to go visit Jack’s grave that day and the guilt took me under by the end of the day.  I felt like a terrible mother.  It was Christmas.  His brother and sister were given tons of gifts and smothered in love and kisses yet I couldn’t even get to him for a quick visit.  I was angry-at myself, Sean, the universe-whatever and whoever I could rage at; and so I cried myself to sleep. 

I woke up dead set that I would be there first thing.  We were. It was a frigid cold that went right through you and with the snow covering everything it reminded me of the day we had picked out his spot almost three years before.  Kennedy excitedly told her brother we were going to Disney World and he can come with us to watch.  My tears froze to my jacket.  The tiny Christmas tree I left and the five minutes I could bear the cold just didn’t feel like enough but it was all I could manage that day.

Her count down had begun and she was so excited it made me wish that we had told her sooner and at the same time thankful that we hadn’t since I threatened (empty-I know) that we wouldn’t go at least twelve times in six days; any longer between the telling and the going could have been disastrous.   We packed and prepped and hoped for good weather. 

We flew down early and made our way to the hotel to get checked in and to the park as quickly as we could.  The second we stepped off of the bus I thought we would all burst.  The magic in that place just spills itself all over you and you have no choice but to let it.  You are walking around suddenly feeling with all of your being that you too need a hat with ears on it; it’s that intoxicating. 

I was watching my little girl for those four days walk around with a smile on her face that left me with a very sobering realization: there has been a lot of life weighing heavy on her heart. She is so sensitive to emotion-especially mine-that it has obviously taken its toll on her.  She will hear me talking in another room and if she hears any change in my voice, come running and ask, “Mama, why does your voice sound sad?” It’s not fair, I know this.  I will spend my life trying to make up for inadvertently putting too much on her little shoulders when I was grieving.  She may not even know that it happened-but I do and looking at her smiling face broke my heart as it occurred to me: she hasn’t really smiled like that in a very long time. And my God, did she ever smile. 

The kid lives for a thrill.  She was all about roller coasters and I felt amazed by the daringness she showed, never hesitating to get on line for another and never showing any anxiety about the unknown.  She humored us and rode the “little kid rides” too with her brother and I but was clearly unimpressed. 

Each time she hugged a character or got their autograph she would shriek, “Best Christmas present ever!” And it really was, for her to go, and for us to watch it all unfold. 

And just as Kennedy had told him he could, Jack followed us to The Happiest Place on Earth.  It was as if he made his presence know to us over and over: from the elephants that popped up all over (I just about lost my mind when I saw the baby elephant surrounded by the herd), to the grown girl with Down syndrome that sat down to talk with my girl-who conversed with her like they were old friends-he was letting us know he was there too.  We were a family of five on vacation at The Happiest Place on Earth.  Even in the pouring rain you couldn’t deny the beauty of it (what a metaphor for us). 

And so as the pixie dust wears off and we settle back into the mortal world these photos and those moments will give me life. They will help carry me through the rough days ahead.  My little boy would have turned three this month.  Three.  How can that be?  My heart aches at that thought. And his baby brother, I suspect, knows this somehow; knows I need to hug him a little tighter, breathe his scent a little deeper and take in all of his baby goodness. 

This year will be all about deep breaths of chaos- magical, magical chaos.

Happy New Year!