Miss you, Dad

We came back from Disney World this weekend. And the magic is alive as ever! That wave from Ariel, the pride in having ridden on not just one but FOUR different roller coasters, the giraffes who came within ten yards of us.

I hadn't been there in 28 years. When I was 10, my dad took me - just him and me. He had felt guilty that the only other time I'd been was when I was two (my older sisters were at their Disney prime) and I hadn't remembered a thing. He wanted me to have Disney memories, and he succeeded. They all came back immediately. The thrill of the Speedway, braving Space Mountain, and of course being permitted more helpings of ice cream than a scrawny young girl can physically stomach anywhere other than the Magic Kingdom. Those memories made me beam, and then they made me sad.

My dad died of liver cancer just over two years ago. He was only 70. My mom raised me and my sisters to be healthy, but she wasn't able to influence him. He drank too much. He ate too much. He didn't exercise. We were always bothered by it, but I never thought it would take his life so early. Even when he was diagnosed and then after he died, I didn't make the connection with lifestyle. Cancer, in my mind, was something that happened to us rather than us happening to it. Had I known then what I know now, I firmly believe I could have helped him live longer. It seems so obvious that what we put into our bodies every day would be the primary culprit of any health issues we suffer. Yet so few of us truly grasp that.

There were countless numbers of grandparents at Disney watching their grandkids experience utter joy flying high above the trees, meeting characters, getting their faces painted in dazzling glitter. But too many of them were forced to watch from afar. They were sitting on scooters. And eating an ice cream cone while doing it. And that's what killed me.

Don't get me wrong, I don't begrudge anyone an ice cream cone from time to time, and especially not at Disney. But I cannot get the images of those people out of my head. They had this amazing gift of being able to "experience the magic" with their grandkids my dad will never have. I just wonder if they knew what they were doing could be what prevents them from experiencing that magic again? Despite my dad being a very smart man, I really don't think he did.

Miss you, Dad.