I've been a cast member at Walt Disney World for two weeks. A new fireworks show called Happily Ever After has just premiered in the Magic Kingdom, replacing the long-running and widely beloved Wishes. I park myself in front of the train station overlooking Main Street for two hours to get the perfect view.
I fall in love with this show the first time I watch it, and by the time it ends, I'm crying.
(This is the first time, but it won't be the last.)
August 2nd, 2017.
I finished my last shift yesterday, and I'm moving out of my apartment tomorrow. Without realizing, my entire summer has suddenly been reduced to three days. I'm not ready to say goodbye.
I slip onto Main Street minutes before the show starts, angling myself between toddler-stacked shoulders to get a decent view. Towards the end of the show, right before the iconic Tinker Bell fly-over, the build-up to the big finale, the narrator says his usual line: And now, our journey comes to an end.
I've never given much thought to the phrasing before, but in this moment, reality hits, and I start crying.
(I frantically wipe my tears as I make a beeline for Tomorrowland down the guest overflow path.)
August 5th, 2017.
Tomorrow morning, a flight will leave Orlando at 8am, and I'll be on it. Even still, I stay at the parks straight past closing--one last hurrah before the magic comes to an end.
The show is delayed because of lightning. For a moment, I'm terrified I won't get to see it one last time. But the show goes on.
I cry, and then I hug my friends and I cry some more.
(I'll cry so many times tonight that I'll lose count.)
September 15th, 2019.
I'm no longer a cast member, but just a regular guest on a regular vacation. It's my second last day here, and a ticketed event has forced me to watch the show a day earlier than planned. I always cry during the show, but tonight I cry a little harder, for seemingly no reason at all.
I don't know it yet, but this will be my last trip before a global pandemic shutters the gates on my favourite place and strands me some 3,000 km away.
(I don't know it yet, but this will be my last time watching my favourite show.)
September 29th, 2021.
Today, Happily Ever After will go on one last time, making way for a brand-new, 50th anniversary spectacular. After tonight, my favourite show will close permanently, and I will not get a chance to say goodbye.
I know it's silly. It's just a pyrotechnics show, one I've seen so many times that I can recite the track by heart, can cue the fireworks as they appear. I've seen it a million times from a million different angles. But this show and I, we have history together, and I know I'm not the only one.
I've always been acutely aware of endings. When I know one is coming, I always turn back for one last look, try to memorize everything and the way it all feels. If this were any other year, I'd have already gotten on a plane. I'd have already crammed myself onto a crowded Main Street, would've already cried my eyes out, and that would've been my ending.
But as we all know, this is not any other year.
So, as silly as it is, I'm sad. I'm sad to see my favourite show go, sad that I didn't know the last time I watched it would be The Last Time, sad that I won't get to see it again and soak in every minute, to be in the moment and memorize it all. I'm sad I won't get to say goodbye the way I want to, the way I always thought I might.
So tonight, at 9pm eastern, I'll hit play on a YouTube video that I've already seen a hundred times. I'll wear my Minnie ears, and I'll say goodbye whatever way I can.
(And yes, I'll most certainly cry.)
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| August 5th, 2017. Me, post-fireworks. |
And so, our journey comes to an end,
But yours continues on.
Grab hold of your dreams and make them come true,
For you are the key to unlocking your own magic.
Now go. Let your dreams guide you.
Reach out and find your...Happily Ever After.
