Well, gentle reader, my wife and I did it; we took our kids to Disney World. Loaded the minivan and drove the interstate. Explored four Disney parks in five days. It was exciting, exhausting, thrilling, frustrating, beautiful and magical.
I write not to share Disney advice (leave that to the experts), but a story.
After a full morning at Hollywood Studios on the fourth day of our trip, my family grabbed food at a restaurant with about 500 other people (the way you do at Disney). We have three kids, so my wife and I have to work hard to overcome our numerical disadvantage. In the flurry of chomping, slurping, spilling, whining and laughing that is lunch, I happened to glance over at a nearby table.
For a moment, I stopped.
There were two grey-haired people sitting across from one another at a table, a half a glass of beer in front of each. At other nearby tables sat the rest of their family, including a dazzle of grandkids easily identified by the matching T-shirts (also the thing to do at Disney).
These human grandparents were wordlessly holding hands across their table. Actually, she had just two fingers resting in his gently closed palm.
I turned back to face my beloved, who was engaged in coaxing our youngest to blow her nose for the umpteenth time, and wished, no, prayed that one day we might be so blessed as to have grown children with kids of their own, a part of their lives — heck, back at Disney! — yet, enjoying quiet time apart from the rest of our family. Moments just for the two of us. Her two fingers in mine.
Now I’m back in North Carolina and my kids are back to school, soccer, taekwondo and such. My wife and I juggle work with chores and shopping and appointments. We’ve even had to battle head lice, which for the record, our kids picked up in school (not a Disney thing).
Through it all, gentle reader, I have held onto that memory of those grandparents, specifically how he held her two fingers in his palm. And I give it you that you might stop and notice, even reach for someone else.
Andrew Taylor-Troutman has a new book coming out about playful and poignant moments in family life titled “Little Big Moments.” He lives in Chapel Hill and occasionally stumbles upon the wondrous while in search of his next cup of coffee.
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