The fun never stops!

Daddy and I returned to Disney World every other year for about a decade; in the “off” years—those would be the years when my father did not go—my sister, Maureen accompanied me. One year, my sister, Joanne and her daughter, Meredith, went with me. I was a Disney World geek, I guess, and headed there whenever the opportunity presented itself; that year, my niece had just graduated from college, so it was another great reason to hop on the plane, and head for Disney World.

Anyway, getting back to my trips with Maureen, we had some wonderful times, and I treasure the memories, but my father and I were more alike when it came to Disney travel; we cheerfully acted like children, where she preferred to thoroughly enjoy things, yet behave like an adult. For that reason, I am going to concentrate on the trips with my father. For someone who was not there with me at the time, the memories of Disney World with my father make for a more entertaining reading experience.

The rides were wonderful, but Daddy and I had our favorites, and I think we had a unique way of enjoying them. Where Maureen and I would simply go from ride to ride, Daddy and I might go through the same ride multiple times, if we really enjoyed it, and then sit someplace to discuss it...how it worked, the amount of thought and planning that must have gone into it, and so on. We were quite intelligent about it, even though we enjoyed acting the part of awestruck children as we approached each respective ride entrance.

Our record was 9 visits to The Haunted Mansion in the same day! We loved that attraction, and would watch carefully each time, to see if we could spot something we had not noticed on previous trips. We did not simply come out of the ride, and get back into line. We would get a soda, or some popcorn, and find a seat someplace to enjoy it, and also to discuss our most recent ride through the mansion.

Daddy and I were also great people watchers. If watching other people's reactions to what they were seeing was not meant to be a part of the experience, a lot of other people were missing the boat, so to speak. 

We noticed some very young children entering the gates to the Magic Kingdom one morning, and we hurried through another line, so that we would be on Main Street U.S.A. in time to see the kids' reactions. My father said we got our money's worth that day. The amazement and joy on the faces of those youngsters was worth the price of the trip, and then some.

One day at EPCOT, after walking through the World Showcase, we got into a line behind Pat Sajak (Wheel of Fortune's host) and his family. We were impressed, not only by how nice a young family they were, but also by the fact that they waited in line like everyone else. I am willing to bet that most people did not even notice them; they were just any other family enjoying themselves in EPCOT, and chatting with my father—a lot of families did that, as my father was a very friendly man.

One of Daddy's other favorite attractions was The Enchanted Tiki Room. It may not rank high on other people's lists, but my father got such a bang out of it—especially when the totem poles would burst into song—that we returned again and again. In a way, the joy we got out of that was akin to our watching of Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol when I was a child of about 7 years; it was the sharing of such a simple experience that made it memorable.

During one of our last visits to Disney World, a terrible storm was pounding the Atlantic coast from Maine to Florida. While New England was buried under about 60” of snow, the remaining coastal states took a hit from severe rain storms and, in Florida, a hurricane.

We were supposed to leave for home on the Saturday morning the hurricane hit, and I remember calling down to the front desk to ask if we could stay in our room at least until Monday, by which time the storm was projected to end. The young woman who took the call told me that would not be possible, as more people would be arriving. I clearly remember telling her, “Trust me in this. Bradley International is closed already. They are not sending people here today.” She reminded me that other airports serviced Disney World, among other places. I told her they would be closing soon, if they were not already closed, and that she should call me back after confirming this.

Needless to say, I heard back from her pretty quickly, and Daddy and I stayed until Monday. Being stranded in Disney World is a pretty good deal, if you can get it. Even though we stayed indoors, we still had a good time talking with other guests, and going into the resort's shops and restaurants. As I have said previously, Daddy and I found our fun wherever we could.

That was the one year when we both felt that Ma was with us on the trip; we had always begged her to come, but she never would join us. That year, though, because we talked to her about ever hour to assure her we were still alright, and to make sure our dear neighbor, Al, was looking after her and my sister, it really felt like a shared experience.

Ending a career and hitting the craft circuit

It is hard to return to the real world, even in print, but I guess the time has come. My mother had battled cancer on and off for about four years by 1995, and she lost the battle in January 1996. Nothing has ever hurt so much, and I doubt it ever will. There is something about losing the first of your parents that really makes you sit up and take notice (I had my father with me until 2010, and I count those years as being among the happiest in my life).

The pain of knowing I would never hear her voice again was crushing. Her death released her from her own pain and suffering, so I was glad for her in that way, but I felt like the entire world should have ended. Never before I had I felt such an enormous sense of loss.

On the work front, things were horrendous; I have mentioned it before, and choose not to mention it further, except to say that losing Ma in January, and then losing the only job I had ever had just a few weeks before Christmas, was a nasty one-two punch. After discussing my options with Daddy, he suggested that I find something fun to do, and then consider staying home with him, as he needed some help.

There was money to be made on the craft circuit back then, and I was a good enough, and lucky enough, to make it. I made various crafts, and also penned 9 mystery books; everything sold well, and I found that doing two shows a week netted me as much money as 5 days in the law firm.

Life was good, indeed. The best part was that, when I was not out at shows, I was home either making things or writing, and I could share the time with my father. Move over Disney World trips—Daddy and I had a ball for the next 15 years without ever leaving the house for more than short visits to friends.

Finding a friend online

During the early years of my second career, I spent a lot of time online. A longtime fan of folk music, I had always loved Simon & Garfunkel the most. I checked out sites online, and found a chat room that was pretty active. I joined, and quickly became online friends with someone who went by the name Jumpin' Joe DiMaggio.

As the time went by, “Jumpin' Joe” and I introduced ourselves, and I found out that her name was Calla. She was very articulate, and a pleasure to talk with; we no longer talked in the chat room to one another—we exchanged regular emails on a daily basis, and even began writing short stories—fan fiction pieces—together.

I suppose because of my willingness to write fan fiction with her, she assumed I was closer to her age. I know that her obvious gift for writing made me think she was probably in her mid-to-late twenties. You can imagine the surprise we both felt on the day she announced she was 14, and asked how old I was. When I got up off the floor and back into my seat, I told her my age—47—and she commented that I was about the same age as her parents.

As each of us has said more than once since then, age has no real meaning among friends. We still email each other every day, and I am not talking about just one email. Sometimes we exchange nearly 20 emails in the course of a day, and I truly think of her as another niece.

When, after about two years of daily emailing, she extended an invitation to come out to visit the farm, I did not hesitate to accept.