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I remember being the grumpy child with the scrunched up face
She was happy on the inside but it wasn’t enough
To hear her mother ask about rollercoasters
Or to watch her father throw her arm in furious anger as he went to capture another pivotal memory
She had to explain why the characters leapt from the screen
Had to preserve the magic by pretending they were real
She watched the shows
She bought souvenirs for friends she’d never see
She bled on hand stitched ears in California
She was happy in spite of internal tears
I returned as an adult
To the happiest place on earth
To the most magical celebration
The Christmas bags held hangers as she squeezed herself into another house that wasn’t hers
There were blood tinged crescent moons on moisturized knees and thighs at the Mexican inn by the eternally erupting volcano
There were panic attacks in quiet cellars in the mountains of Canada
There was half eaten hummus in Morocco
(We’ll remember you forever Marrakesh)
But there were also fireworks and happy tears
There were backpacks filled with pins traded and purchased
There was education about our beautiful planet and celebrations of an America only known from history books
There was money spent on cookies and treats
There was creativity reignited in dreams resurrected from plunged depths
Believe in the pixie dust for the magic never truly dies