The Twelve Days of 40: Part 4/13

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ning my parents, older sister, and I jumped into our car and headed to Southern California for my first Disneyland trip. We lived in the San Francisco Bay Area at the time. I was five years old. It was the late 1980s.My dad drove the entire seven-hour, 375-mile trip, which felt like a lifetime for a pre-kindergartener like me. Our old-school Toyota Camry was packed with clothes, food, and other personal belongings we needed for the journey. Our plan was to sightsee around Los Angeles the first day, visit Disneyland the second day, and then travel to Lake Havasu City, Ariz. the third day to visit Grandpa William and Grandma Mary.I somehow caught a stomach bug on the first leg of the trip. Hence, I was suffering from fatigue, dehydration, and achiness by the time we arrived in Los Angeles. I still remember feeling scared and exhausted as I napped in our hotel room. My dad and sister did their best to comfort me as my mom walked to the nearest pharmacy to buy medicine.I luckily recovered overnight, so we were still able to visit Disneyland the next day. We took a shuttle that dropped us off near the entrance of the park. I gasped with excitement as the door opened and I saw people, r

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ides, and shops for as far as my eyes could see.“Wow … this is so cool,” I said to my dad as he grabbed me by the waist and lifted me from the van.I cannot recall every moment of our day at Disneyland. However, I loved riding Space Mountain with my mom. I felt pure exhilaration as we flew like rockets through the darkness. It is still my favorite ride at the park today.My sister flew home for work the next day. Meanwhile, my parents and I began our journey to Lake Havasu City. I naturally felt sad to leave Disneyland. After all, visiting the park had been the happiest moment of my life up to that point. But I felt grateful to have experienced it with the people who meant the most to me.I was also thankful to my parents and sister for nursing me back to health. I appreciated their kindness, generosity, and patience, despite being exhausted themselves from a long day on the road. Not for a single moment did they blame me for nearly ruining the trip.The compassion my parents and sister showed me that day made all the difference in my quick recovery and my first visit to Disneyland (literally) would not have happened without them.</article></body>

The Twelve Days of 40: Part 4/13

Photo by Travis Gergen on Unsplash

You have likely heard the song “The 12 Days of Christmas” at some point in your life. “On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…” Blah, blah, blah. Et cetera. So on and so forth.

To celebrate my 40th birthday scheduled to take place less than a year from now, I would like to look back at the 12 most unforgettable days of my life (plus one honorable mention). They have all made me the person I am today: an imperfect, yet perfectly happy husband, father, son, brother, and human being.

It would only make sense to start at the bottom of the list and work our way to the top. So, without further ado…

No. 10: My first visit to Disneyland in Anaheim.

The day was a lesson in compassion…

I felt happy, excited, and even a little nervous the morning my parents, older sister, and I jumped into our car and headed to Southern California for my first Disneyland trip. We lived in the San Francisco Bay Area at the time. I was five years old. It was the late 1980s.

My dad drove the entire seven-hour, 375-mile trip, which felt like a lifetime for a pre-kindergartener like me. Our old-school Toyota Camry was packed with clothes, food, and other personal belongings we needed for the journey. Our plan was to sightsee around Los Angeles the first day, visit Disneyland the second day, and then travel to Lake Havasu City, Ariz. the third day to visit Grandpa William and Grandma Mary.

I somehow caught a stomach bug on the first leg of the trip. Hence, I was suffering from fatigue, dehydration, and achiness by the time we arrived in Los Angeles. I still remember feeling scared and exhausted as I napped in our hotel room. My dad and sister did their best to comfort me as my mom walked to the nearest pharmacy to buy medicine.

I luckily recovered overnight, so we were still able to visit Disneyland the next day. We took a shuttle that dropped us off near the entrance of the park. I gasped with excitement as the door opened and I saw people, rides, and shops for as far as my eyes could see.

“Wow … this is so cool,” I said to my dad as he grabbed me by the waist and lifted me from the van.

I cannot recall every moment of our day at Disneyland. However, I loved riding Space Mountain with my mom. I felt pure exhilaration as we flew like rockets through the darkness. It is still my favorite ride at the park today.

My sister flew home for work the next day. Meanwhile, my parents and I began our journey to Lake Havasu City. I naturally felt sad to leave Disneyland. After all, visiting the park had been the happiest moment of my life up to that point. But I felt grateful to have experienced it with the people who meant the most to me.

I was also thankful to my parents and sister for nursing me back to health. I appreciated their kindness, generosity, and patience, despite being exhausted themselves from a long day on the road. Not for a single moment did they blame me for nearly ruining the trip.

The compassion my parents and sister showed me that day made all the difference in my quick recovery and my first visit to Disneyland (literally) would not have happened without them.