I "teared up" the first night at Fantasmic. Okay...I cried. I don't know why. Maybe being taken back through so many Disney memories. Maybe the incredible display of imagination. Maybe I was exhausted. Anyway...two days later, Jeremy admitted that it made him "tear up" too. Just sayin'.
I teared up on the "It's a Small World" ride. Mostly at the end when we were all singing along.
I teared up when the Fairy-Godmother-in-Training couldn't style Lauren's hair because she had an eczema patch on her scalp. Something about products and policy and doctor's notes. I understood. But she didn't. Oh that sweet, disappointed face! Have mercy!
I teared up when Jacob spilled coke in his lap and he was embarrassed that people might think it was another kind of accident.
I teared up when I saw this note that Lauren left in the room.
I teared up when each of my grandchildren, at separate times, said "Thank you, Nana, for bringing us to Disney World."
I teared up during the fireworks finale when the explosion was shaped like a star and everyone was singing, "When You Wish Upon A Star."
And tears were shed on the last trek to the shuttle after the final night parade and fireworks. When every muscle, joint, and vertebrae ached from the miles walked, hours sat on hard, cold concrete to save the best place, and from jerks and sudden drops of ridicululously fun and scary rides.
Oh, mark my words. Disney World is not for Sissies. Or maybe it is.