Present Place

If you have been to Disney World before, you probably have your own thoughts on what consists of “Disney magic”.  The Hinton’s have adventured there twice before, finding the magic to be enduring hordes of people, eating outrageously expensive chicken fingers, developing ride strategies that would give a NASA flight plan a run for its money, and soothing the most epic of toddler meltdowns with yet another Mickey Ice Cream bar.  This last trip, call it Disney magic if you’d like, but I think I found something even better.  Joy.  Hope.  Gratitude.

               The trip didn’t start that way.  I had told Chad a couple weeks before we left that I really like to go into a family vacation with a solid dose of dread to temper any high expectations of how things will go.  We are a volatile crew and so many times I have been left devastated by the stark difference in how things went versus how I thought things were going to go.  I was hopeful my new strategy would alleviate some of the burn when things would inevitably go awry.  Sure enough, on the flight down, Elena threw us a curveball that dashed my vision of day one before we even got there.  We pivoted our plans, Chad handling Elena, leaving me to have a good cry behind my sunglasses poolside.  I told myself, “I told you so,” and braced myself for a week of this.

               Fortunately, Elena kept the drama to a minimum for the rest of the trip, but did not hide her tween indifference to absolutely everything we tried to get her to like.  She remained tolerant but unexpressive.  However, she was a part of absolutely everything.  We were together.

               You probably don’t realize what a statement that is.  We are a divide and conquer family.  There is very little that we are all able to do, completely, as a family.  If there’s one thing Disney does right, it’s that.  Their accommodations for people with disabilities are top notch, allowing us access to everything, keeping us together, truly a rare treat for a family like ours.  We cherished every moment, the five of us, doing every part of it, together.  And that brought my Momma heart so much joy. 

               At the end of it all, instead of coming home depleted, my cup was filled.  I couldn’t help but reconcile it to how life has felt lately.  While full of shattered expectations, frustrations and things feeling completely out of control, getting just beyond that, not to a perfect place, but to a present place, can bring an entirely different perspective.  For me, it brought me the joy of togetherness and quality time with my kids.  It gave me a glimpse of hope, that moments like this that I so often grieve, are possible.  And, with Turner at that magical 48 inch mark and able ride every ride, Calvin not quite to the age where parents kill every vibe, Elena for her love of being with us no matter how miserable she is, and for Chad knowing when I need a sunglass cry, I could not be more grateful.