The Last Drive to Florida

    We had a really wonderful time at Walt Disney World. Our girls met over 19 characters,  went on Dumbo four times, and ate Mickey Mouse waffles every morning. Our older girls had ample access to roller coasters and other thrilling rides.  I even found a new favorite ride that was safe despite my pregnancy...Soarin' at Epcot, which is hang glider simulator. I love the feeling of flying! At the end of the week, I think that running throughout my pregnancy made a huge difference in my stamina at Walt Disney World because I did just fine with all the walking.
     While we were driving down here, I was reminded of the times in my childhood that we drove to Florida, and specifically the last time I had driven to Florida.  It was back when I was only 12 years old. My dad had been sick with cancer for a couple of years; but after two radical neck surgeries to remove the tumors, we were hopeful that he would beat the cancer. Still, there was the nagging thought in the back of our heads that this might be the end of the cancer. I remember being annoyed that we spent four days driving to Florida and another four days driving back from Florida. We actually only spent three days in Florida, even though my parents called it our Florida trip. My brother and I affectionately termed it the "trip TO Florida" because we spent so much time driving...we wanted to hang out with our cousins in Florida instead of stopping at every welcome center on the way down and back. Looking back now, I understand more why we traveled that way. I wonder if my dad knew this would be last time he would ever see this part of the country in this life. My uncle lived in Sarasota, and my mom and dad often drove down in their 26 years of marriage.  In fact, that was where they went on their honeymoon.  This was my dad's last chance to show us some things that he loved. He wanted the chance to show us Opryland, and paid for the fanciest hotel there that I can ever remember staying in...EVER. There was even a huge fountain in the middle of it. I wonder if this is why he insisted on us trying every variety of Goo-Goo Clusters...his favorite candy that was unavailable in Illinois at the time.  I wonder if that is why he took time to stop and have me feel the spanish moss on the trees at a welcome center to Florida despite my mom's look of concern over it. I remember getting my first chance to ride up front with my dad in our car and to navigate him with the atlas. It was the first time I really understood how to read a map. I'll never forget all the things he showed me. Although my brother and I were usually fighting, I remember buying Hubba Bubba and him teaching me how to blow bubbles for the first time on that trip.
      This trip with my family has been a great memory; and so when they wanted to feel the Spanish moss, we encouraged them. When my lizard loving girl discovered the brown anoles all over Disney World, we stopped repeatedly to let her attempt catching them, and we stopped to let our girls wonder at the gorgeous butterfly next to the train station at Magic Kingdom. We let the girls meet that one more character they'd been dying to meet even when we had planned to leave at that point. We really never know when our time is up. This could be our last trip to Florida, so we want them to have precious memories to reflect back on someday too when my husband and I are gone from this world. 
     This last week, I was once again reminded of the fragility of life when my friend said goodbye to her five year old that died of a rare form of brain cancer. I remember talking to her for the first time when her five year old was just a baby (which happened to be her third child), and I was pregnant with our third child too. She gave me some advice on a stroller we were considering purchasing, and we continued our friendship over the years (and through a couple more pregnancies ). Our little girls were even in the same class at church. I found out about her daughter's cancer on my daughter's fourth birthday.  It made me stop, and remember to hold her just a little longer and forgive some of the things she had done that week that annoyed me. This week when I told my little girl about her friend's death, she asked if she hurt anymore. She remembered her having horrible headaches in her class and being in pain. I told her most assuredly that she did not. She's in heaven now, and I can't help being a little jealous. I'd love the chance to tell my dad how much I value that last "trip TO Florida".