Arcs

I like Disney World.

I know that’s a controversial stance in some circles, but it’s true.

As a Star Wars and Marvel enthusiast, I know I am supposed to be annoyed at the way they have given my superheroes and space villains predictable character arcs and silly dialogue. I also know, as a parent, I’m supposed to be worried subliminal messages will turn my children into spell-casting sex fiends.

I understand all of that, but I do like Disney World, and the reason I like the place is the same reason so many people like so many different things, which is nostalgia.

After all, I grew up watching Disney movies. I went to Disneyland as a little kid and Disney World as an adolescent. My wife and I took our older two kids to Orlando when they seemed to be at the perfect age to enjoy it the most, and over the years our family has learned to sing and tolerate dozens of Disney songs.

Because she has grown up in such an environment, then, perhaps it was inevitable Annaka has wanted to go to Disney World for as long as she’s known there was such a thing. Why wouldn’t she? It sounds great on paper, and so we always assumed we would take her there when the time was right. Because of the nostalgia part, I was looking forward to this future memory myself.

A few concerns made us warry, however.

The medicine Annaka needs to keep her liver transplant working, for example, makes her skin prone to melanoma and her immune system less capable of fighting off infections. Her fluid needs are above average, (which means her restroom needs are above average) and she’s also dangerously allergic to much of the American diet. All of these considerations meant standing in line for hours and navigating through throngs of people was going to be more than just annoying, it would be a health hurdle to be jumped.

Despite these medical issues, however, when a volunteer from the Make-A-Wish organization suggested we apply, it wasn’t really on our radar. Considering how well Annaka had recovered from the liver transplant itself, we doubted she would be eligible. We went through the process, however, filling out the paperwork, getting doctors’ signatures, and, to our surprise, her wish was granted!

Around the time we were looking at potential dates, however, the calendar turned to 2020, and nearly all traveling stopped. We paused. The trip was put on hiatus, along with so many other plans. Eventually the world did open back up and so did our itinerary. In retrospect, the delay was beneficial for a couple of reasons. For one, Annaka will remember so much more as a seven-year-old, and secondly, she was now tall enough to enjoy most of the same rides as her siblings.

The trip itself was a whirlwind of activity and planning, particularly as we tried to figure out how to feed her at the parks and on the plane. We did it, though. Even though it meant stashing an air fryer in our checked baggage and lugging around a soft back cooler around the parks, we managed.

We took her to Disney World, and, thanks to military-grade planning by my wife and advice from my cousin, enjoyed everything it offered: Hollywood Studios, Animal Kingdom, Epcot, and, of course, the Magic Kingdom itself. Universal Studios was also part of the gift, and so we enjoyed the rides, shows, and crowds there as well.

It was a big week with a lot of moving parts, but Annaka loved it. She loved the VIP treatment each time a park associate led us toward the front of the line and she especially adored being big enough to ride roller coasters with her siblings. Part of our enjoyment was reminiscing on previous visits, but mostly it was just watching the three of them enjoy each day.

One of the calmer highlights, however, came the morning of our return home.

Our evenings in Florida had been spent at Give Kids the World Village in nearby Kissimmee. This whimsical little resort is a vacation in itself, complete with swimming pools, an arcade, and even its own mini-golf course. Besides the VIP treatment here as well, each wish kid is also given the privilege of ceremoniously signing their name to their own little golden star. This star is then placed among thousands and thousands of identical stars inside the community's colorful castle.

This was a joyful moment but also somber, as we were saturated with the understanding that many of those stars can no longer be visited by those who signed them; we were reminded in a powerful way how blessed we were, and how fragile and precious childhood truly is.

Families are allowed to return to the resort a couple times a year as an afternoon guest, to visit their star and to reminisce on their time together. Nostalgia can be a powerful force, and so we’re already looking forward to this memory.