So often, when we have visited Southern California, the moon has been waxing or waning. Like a celestial witness, its Cheshire Cat grin hovers on the horizon and smiles at our antics below. Such was the case this past week.
The moon watched as our little girls lead us on a pixie dust parade for five amazing days. They danced and bopped circles around us old folks. They took two steps to our one, and smiled until bedtime. They were the magic in the Magic Kingdom. I have come home rejuvenated and exhausted – refreshed and bagged. We had a ball.
It’s taken me seven years to find the words to articulate the magic of grandchildren — they are double dipped – you get to love them and their parents in the same beat of your heart. As I watched my daughter drink in the magic of her children I got to drink in her’s and their’s at the same time. It was almost too much, more than once the emotion overwhelmed me.
We opened the park and shut it down on each of our walks through the gates. We moseyed, we ran, we sat – we zigged and zagged with no set agenda – and the days unfolded and blended together. I don’t remember watching the sun set or noticing the moment when all the fairy lights began to twinkle, but dusk would fall and the park was transformed.
The moon grinned. The fireworks sprinkled the castle. The music drifted all around us. The crowds fell away until it felt like it was just us, the moment and the wonder. Such is the magic of the land.
We are home from our magical holiday. I will add these new memories to my treasured chest. I know I will visit The Land again, it keeps calling me back, but this wonderful adventure is unique, as are all the ones before.
I’m back to today in the glow of yesterday, tomorrow and fantasy.