Choosing to SEE - Mary Beth Chapman [78]
We decided to go to Disney World. The happiest place on earth, right?
Wrong.
Our make-new-memories group was Karen, Reggie, their daughter Julia (our daughter-in-law-to-be), their son David (Will’s best buddy), Steven, Shaoey, Stevey Joy, and me. The rest of the family had other commitments, and we would all be back at Christmastime when Steven would sing, as he does each year, at Disney’s annual candlelight processional at Epcot Center.
I won’t go into all the disastrous details, but the trip was doomed from start to finish. We decided to stay at a Disney resort we hadn’t been to before. We thought that might help, but it didn’t. It was still Disney without our Tinker Bell, who had actually been with us to Disney World eight times over the course of her little life. We kept getting smacked with memories of Maria, the ultimate Goofy, everywhere we went. That set the stage for tension throughout our trip.
At one point Steven and I had gone in separate directions, agreeing to meet at the huge Wall-E statue at a certain time. He had Shaoey with him, I had Stevey Joy, and as we waited . . . and waited . . . and waited at the appointed spot, I got madder . . . and madder . . . and madder.
So I did what any mom would do – went into the gift store right beside the giant Wall-E. I felt myself spinning out of control as Stevey Joy was picking out a souvenir. She chose a “High School Musical” outfit. I was so in the habit of buying two of such things . . . one for Maria, one for Stevey Joy. Holding only one outfit to buy brought Maria’s death to the forefront of my mind. My friend Karen found me crying on the floor in the corner.
I tried to pull it together. I bought Stevey’s outfit and left the store sniffling. When I got back to the giant Wall-E – where earlier I had already waited for my consistently late husband – Steven still had not shown up!
For his part, Steven had made a wrong turn and innocently missed the sign, but I wasn’t having any of it. When he finally appeared, I was yelling at him from the time I could see him coming: “How does anyone miss a forty-foot Wall-E? ”
We eventually settled down (sort of) and even took a few pictures with fake happy smiles. Then we headed to a crab restaurant (appropriate) for dinner.
As you can imagine, the short walk to the restaurant was a complete fuss fest. I was mad at Steven for missing the biggest Wall-E in the world. Steven was mad at me because I was mad. Karen was telling Steven what had happened to me in the gift shop, which started me crying again.
It was as tense and miserable as it could be. We were all close friends, and family, and we were stuck in a grief that seemed like it would never change. Nothing would ever be the same, and we were all realizing it by how the evening was playing out.
When we finally got seated at the table and ordered our food, Steven decided to take a little break.
He excused himself and went for a walk, crying and praying, feeling hopeless. The restaurant was built like a big paddleboat next to a large lake, with various levels sticking out over the water.
Steven was standing on the second level from the top, staring at the water, praying, “Lord, when are You coming back? If it’s not in the next half hour, I’m not gonna make it. This is so hard, and we’re all at odds with each other because we’re hurting so bad.”
Just then a little girl came skipping up to Steven. She was by herself – no parents anywhere nearby. She looked like she’d been to the Bibbidy Bobbidy Boutique, a place where little girls go and get glammed up with glittery hairdos and sashes. She grinned at Steven and said, “You know, the best view’s from the top!”
Then she skipped away.
It was like God was saying, “SEE!” to my hurting, angry husband. The best view on everything we were going through was from the top. A heavenly view. The eternal perspective we had to cling to with all we had in us.
Steven came