Aaron and I are going on a Disneyland trip next month, and it’s ALL we can talk about. It’s like the season leading up to Christmas.
Some people think it’s odd that children-less adults love Disneyland so much.
When my mom and dad were dating, they would hang out at my mom’s house, and my dad fell in love with her rad Greek family. He loved how every conversation would turn into a reminiscent session. “Remember the time when we were on vacation in Yellow Stone and…” “Remember how lost we got in…” “Remember how we had to all squish around in the back seat of the car on our way to…” “Remember when we could sprinkle water on Grandpa’s head from the back seat and he thought there was a leak in the roof of the car?” My mom’s family didn’t have a lot of money. It made a major impression on my dad at how important vacations are, and that you don’t need to spend a fortune to create memories. My dad knew that he wanted to make those memories with my mom and his future family.
My dad went to Disneyland the year it opened, in 1955. And he remembers it. From then on, it has held a special spot in his heart.
My mom and dad were on a strict budget when I was young. We didn’t go to Disneyland each year. But we did go on some kind of vacation each year, even if it was just a camping trip. And when we DID go to Disneyland, it was SO special.
I thought a fun activity would be write a tribute to each Disneyland adventure, and what specific stories happened each time.
My first Disneyland trip was when I was 3 years old. October 1991. My Grandma Pulos felt inspired to have the entire extended family go to Disneyland together. (Four months later, she would learn she had terminal cancer.)
I have a feeling that life never slows down.
This post is a retrospective journal entry for me. It is slightly long. If you have no interest in my past, feel free to not read it 🙂