Arriving at Disney World is one of the best moments of life. For my family, the trip has been upwards of 14 hours in a car (or train, but that’s a whole other talk) and months of preparation, and we’ve been ticking down the milestones for several states. When we finally see that first billboard held up by a white-gloved hand, and then the first mention of a resort, and then, oh, then, the “Where Dreams Come True” arch, it is a glorious moment. There are often tears. I want to fling myself out of the car and do a dance. It is wonderful. But even among all the giggles and cheers and tears and kisses and hugs, there is a dark cloud looming. We try to ignore it. We push it away and refuse to let it dampen our spirits. But it’s there. The worst, most miserable, most terrible, horrible moment of a Disney Vacation — when it ends. Read more
