A Glimpse of Youth
February 2011
Orlando, Florida
Dad: What are you going to ride?
Rania: A car.
Dad: Are you going to drive it really fast?
Rania: Ya. P.S. Here’s my driver’s license.
Dad: What color car are you going to drive?
Rania: I don’t know, like yellow, or blue...
Zan: Um, red.
I’m six years old standing in the Test Track line at Disney’s Epcot. Zan and I are hanging from a line barrier. We are swinging back and forth, our bodies becoming pendulums of our youth. We are too little to grasp the profound joy found in these simple moments. Zan's laughter fills the air, a melody that blends with the murmurs of fellow “How many more minutes Mom?” and “Can we ride it again?”. In this fleeting moment, time slows, and we find ourselves in a realm of our creation. Our spirits dance, suspended between the worlds of reality and imagination. We vow to each other to never get old, no matter what. Dad videos us as our anticipation to ride the cars pulsates. We beam with excitement, and I know that mom is intently waiting for us outside the ride.
February 2023
Miami, Florida
Standing on the beach tucked behind the Delano Hotel, I watch my dad’s trembling hands spread my mother’s ashes in the water. His khaki shorts are submerged, and Zan and I stand at a distance. I find myself tracing the crevices of waves as I watch my mother finally disappear. My head hurts as I consider what it would be like to be gone forever, and ever. My dad’s gaze, a reflection of both sorrow and acceptance, meets my eyes. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he says. He reminds us of the love and joy we have experienced as a family, and how those moments will forever shape our lives. Memories well within me, slowly becoming a lifeline. As the final remnants of ashes disappear into the depths, I feel a gentle peace descend upon me. I hope death is like being carried to your bedroom when you were a child and fell asleep on the couch at a family party. I hope you can hear the laughter from the next room.
While we walk back to the hotel, beside us, a group of millennials is singing and laughing, shaking their hips to reggaeton. We find ourselves smiling, seeing our mother dancing right beside them.
February 2023
Orlando, Florida
We are driving down Interstate 95 from Miami to Orlando. Dad asks me and Zan trivial questions about which parks we should visit and what rides are at the top of our lists. I want to cry. As Jack Johnson trembles through the rental car’s speakers, I stare out the window watching the balmy Miami sky fade into the swollen depths of Orlando. In this convergence of voices, the car becomes a vessel of contemplation and revelation. The engine hums a steady rhythm, propelling us forward. Disney, here we come.
It’s two days later, and Zan and I are racing out of the park to the car screaming carelessly about who gets the front seat. As we ride back to the hotel, I drown the car in Fleetwood Mac. Dad hums “Everywhere” as we share a melted chocolate chip cookie. And suddenly, I feel like I’m six again, tugging at my dad’s sleeve in line asking how many more minutes we have before the ride. We spent three days at Disney venturing to infinity & beyond and then back to the Hilton Homewood Suites. At first, I was reluctant to understand why taking two teenagers to Disney could ever be a fun vacation, but I realize now that feeling the ephemeral nature of my youth was something that I needed. Between 75-minute lines and crumpled plastic Disney Store bags, I felt temporarily whole again. My dad understood maybe better than I did that Disney has always cradled me.
I visited Disney this past February with a heart heavy with the weight of a loss. I yearned for the simplicity of my youth spent eating cereal to “Phineas and Ferb” every Saturday morning with my brother, watching Mickey sell his harmonica to get a chain for Minnie’s watch, and playing house with my Disney figurines in the basement. I don’t want to be an eighteen-year-old who Ubers home from school, eats dinner in her room, and doesn’t frequently see her little brother. As the weight of maturity settles heavily upon my fragile shoulders, I struggle to believe that who I am still re- sembles the Disney-loving six-year-old version of myself. Does she still live inside of me?
As I stepped foot within the world of childhood wonder, I found myself enveloped in a familiar embrace, still tinged with a bittersweet ache. I felt the building of a bridge between my present grief and the innocence of my youth, reminding me of the vibrant spirit that lies within myself. I found myself invited to remember what it means to feel young again, allowing my heart to dance with the joy that was once so familiar. I was okay to scream with unwavering joy on roller coasters and eat Mickey Mouse waffles for breakfast. In this union of nostalgia and youthful joy, I finally began to feel myself heal, finding strength, hope, and a renewed sense of possibility.
From Space Mountain to the Mad Tea Party, I navigated the park, comforted by resurfacing memories shared with my mother. I found myself dancing on a tightrope between joy and sorrow, clinging to fragments of innocence while grappling with the harsh reality of my new world. Laying bare the rawness of loss that coexists with the shimmer- ing veneer of Disney’s spectacle, I discovered a glimmer of hope, a fragile reminder that even in the darkest of times, the spirit of youth can illuminate the path forward. There will always be a version of me on my way to Disney.
***
I believe that a part of my mother lives in the moat of It’s A Small World and a little bit of her in the loud Spanish lyrics of ‘El Perdón,” just as I believe I can find her on the beach in Miami. I believe that in a parallel universe or another world, we sit across from each other at the kitchen table and go over the grocery list. And I believe that one day, she will walk through the front door again like an old friend. Maybe this wishful thinking is harmful, but it’s comforting to know that who we are and what we love never escapes the people around us.
And so our journey comes to an end, but yours continues. Grab a hold of your dreams and make them come true. For you are the key to unlocking your magic. Now go, let your dreams guide you. Reach out and find your happily ever after.
