At an impromptu luncheon with my parents and little sister today, the topic of Disney World was brought up. As is customary every year or so, we begin planning our big family vacation to Disney. We have been there more times than I am able to count in the last thirteen years, our first trip being when I was thirteen. It is a magical place that shows exactly how childlike my family is. Not in our desire to eat loads of ice cream, or stay up late at night, but in our ability to be in awe of magic, and beauty, and believe anything is possible (especially at Disney). As my parents three children get older (myself included), we have mastered the art of the theme parks. We have in depth knowledge of which rides to run to first, and which rides to skip all together.
I mention this, because it is necessary that you understand, I have thousands of Disney memories. All of them happy, the majority of them make me giggle when I think of them. Our last trip to Disney in 2010, I got engaged to my now husband; a wonderful and incredibly special memory. However, as I sat at lunch with my family, missing only my brother and husband, I asked them; "What do you think my all time favorite memory of Disney is?" And my family attempted to peek into my brain and figure it out. They had wonderful guesses, they all pulled up hilarious and sentimental memories, our first time at Disney running through the fountains, running through the park trying to make it to a ride with our fast pass, the fireworks, walking down Main Street, USA for the first time as a family; the list could continue forever.
I told them they were all wrong, my favorite memory is as follows; We were waiting in line for Soaring (a now favorite ride among the family). It had just opened to the public for testing; it was not even officially open yet. I was a junior in high school; my brother was in eighth grade, my sister in fifth. The line was long, and we were standing for what seemed like forever. I will never forget, the two boys in line ahead of us, fighting and fidgeting, playing their video games; and the children behind us whining nonstop. In that line, my brother, sister and I, stood together, as my sister would say a sentence in Latin, my brother would translate it into French, which I would then translate into English. My parents just listened to us, amused at their children. We went on for a good while, translating funny sentences, cracking ourselves up, much to the annoyance of the mother in front of us. "Why you can't be more like those kids? They're speaking different languages, and all you two can do is fight."
As I look back on that memory, I cherish it dearly. I wish forever I could have that on tape, because it is exactly what I love about my family. We did not grow up with a lot, we never had fancy items, a TV in our own room, or video games, but we had everything we needed. We had fun, laughter and imagination. We would make up our own games, animal soccer on the family room floor, or play in our fort in the backyard. We would stare at the clouds, and listen to the wind whistle through the trees. Our parents loved us unconditionally; they always hugged us, read us stories, and paid more attention to the importance of raising kids, than the importance of impressing the neighbors.
You do not need a fancy phone; with all the apps you could want on it. You do not need an I-pod with thousands of songs, or a tablet to bury your face into. You need family; you need laughter, and an appreciation for wonderment, the little things in life, beauty in even the ugliest of creatures, late nights with friends, and inside jokes that crack you up for years after. You need to have memories of your parents hugging you tight in a blanket and whispering, "I love you so much, forever and always." Those are the most important things you can cherish in your life. That is all that really matters, and I pray that someday my children feel the same way, with the same happy memories.