Tinker Bell

As per usual, I was causually laughing and talking with my mom and sister on the phone when my mom begin to share one of her childhood memories. “Do you guys remember me talking about driving to Disneyland with my parents?”

Assuringly, we both reply, “Yeah, sure, what about it?”

“Well, do you remember me telling you about us traveling there, and my dad not letting me see the grand finale of Tinker Bell flying through the air?”

As my sister and I begin to cling with interest to our mother’s story she begin to entail the “unfinished business” of her childhood. For many of us, the are pieces of our childhood that never have an ending, or rather, there are gaps within our stories. Divorce, moving, death, being misplaced are events that create “unfinished business”, and thus, leaves a sense of yearning to better understand the “why’s” in our lives. For my mother, her father purposefully not allowing her to see the grand finale at Disneyland (Tinker Bell fly) was a significant act of “nope, there will be no happy ending to this story.” Nonetheless, my mom moved forward with her life: married/divorced, graduated with a Masters, raised two wonderful daughters, and skipped into the sunset with her boyfriend.

Fast forward.

Mom, “So Evans [boyfriend] and I take his daughter to Disney World [Orlando] and we are standing watching the fireworks, when suddently Tinker Bell comes flying out! Aja, Kamaria, I….Lose….My….Mind! I’m screaming, yelling, ‘It’s Tinker Bell, it’s Tinker Bell’. Evans is looking at me, the man in front of me comments, ‘it’s amazing isn’t it’, and I’m like, ‘yeah’, and I begin to explain to these women around me how my father made me miss seeing Tinker Bell when I was 9-years-old, and I’m here, at 59-years-old finally experiencing that moment.”

To hear my mother share this experience was very poignant. Here is a woman that I have watched my entire life remain fierce, poised, resiliant, and courageous, share a part of her inner being that essentially was not resolved. This piece of my mother that had tucked itself away to overcome an intense level of disappointment that was promised by the first person that was suppose to keep her safe, her father. Yet, despite not having had the promise fulfilled, my mother carried on with life, without the proper preperation to fend from further disappointments by those closest to her. But that night, that night, without warning my mom’s wish came true…watching Tinker Bell end the magical night with her angelic wand.

My mother sounded more giddy and child-like then I have ever heard before. Her moment of innocent excitement made me excited and tearful to know that she too had wished upon a star as a child, and finally, it came true; 50 years later.

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