Growing up, Disney was a way of life in our household. I grew up going every year, especially during the week of Halloween. My Dad gave me the best memories there. To this day, I still remember riding the monorail with him, our late night bakery visits while staying at the Contemporary Resort and pulling his hand as we went on adventures searching for every pressed penny and pin kiosk there. Every trip was unique and fostered a forever love for all things Disney. These were the best memories and experiences of my life. They left a lasting impression on my heart. These trips were so exquisite, so priceless and so special to me. So much so, I wanted to carry on the tradition with my Husband and Son.

We decided to set forth on our Disney adventure the week of Halloween. We had not been since Pop passed away so I knew this fun adventure would be unique and bittersweet for me. When you spend your entire life being used to sharing these experiences with your hero and then have that ripped from you suddenly, there is bound to be a rollercoaster of emotions flooding your brain. Sure enough, the day came to ride Space Mountain over and over again at the Magic Kingdom. Recovered memories weighed on me heavily. Pop and I rode this on Halloween nearly 14 times in a row during Mickey’s Not So Scary Halloween Party. As my Husband, Son, and myself entered the first lighted tunnel of this ride, we all threw up our hands and said “Hey Pop, this one’s for you”. Then as the ride came to an end, tears streamed down my face. That was when it hit me I didn’t have my Dad here to share this with. I couldn’t call him to hear the excitement in his voice when he heard of our fun adventures at the park.

Our next day was to head to Epcot and join Figment in the land of imagination. This ride was so fun for me as a child and still fun for me as an adult. As Figment is singing all about sparking your imagination, I’m watching him pop up covered in rainbows and thinking of Pop. He loved this ride because he would always say with a big grin “Ah, to feel the air conditioner and be able to sit down for a few minutes not being blinded by the Orlando heat is simply amazing.” The human brain fascinates me. It’s amazing to me how being on certain rides brought back so many fun memories.

Unexpected plot twist: Upon joining the virtual que to ride Epcot’s newest ride “Guardian’s of the Galaxy: Cosmic Rewind,” there was a 4.5 hour wait. Since I had never experienced this ride before, and I have an autonomic nervous system disorder called Dysautonomia, I knew I needed to do research. The only information I could find revealed a family of four sitting on this rollercoaster moving forward slowly and smiling. We asked a park employee who compared it to Space Mountain which all three of us absolutely love.

What they didn’t inform riders of was the fact that this rollercoaster was an Omni coaster. Simply put, this ride is one that is in the dark, goes incredibly fast backwards and spins you 360 degrees with high drops and fast spins for one minute. AKA a total nightmare for someone with Dysautonomia. My husband is so sweet, he said he knew when our car turned around, that we were going to go backwards and I was going to be in trouble. He was correct. As I cried and screamed out loud to stop the ride, the music blaring was too loud that no one could hear me. By the time the ride came to an end, I was trembling, my head was spinning, and I had temporarily lost my hearing. Immediately I bolted out to try to find the exit and a restroom. As soon as I found it, I began vomiting. I was shaking, freezing cold, clammy hands. I was in my own personal nightmare. As I slid down the stall’s restroom wall sobbing uncontrollably, I couldn’t understand why at that very moment, my Dad’s face popped into my head.

It’s as if he was there with me holding my hand, guiding me to safety, letting me know I was stronger than I give myself credit for. I imagined what advice he would have given me at that very moment. He would tell me not to let one bad experience ruin my trip. He would want me to be happy and to continue hunting for pressed pennies and pins with my family. It was then that my whole life flashed in front of my eyes and it hit me: My Dad my whole life was preparing me for his loss one day. He wanted me to have all of these amazing Disney memories so that I could remember and cherish the times I did have with him, rather than focus on the times I would never get to have with him. My Disney adventure of finding my Dad, healing my heart, and making new magical memories with my own family proved to be a success. To which I will say “Thanks Pop, this one’s for you”.