By Rick Fauquet
My wife and I started taking our daughter to Disney World when she was about two-years-old, but I was hesitant.
My reasons to press the brakes on the Disney indoctrination of my girl were solid — that’s what happens when your own father almost dies at Disney World. I was about five years old. Alcoholism is one helluva disease.
Even though my reason seems legit, I still wondered if Bambi, Ariel and all seven of the dwarfs were going to kick the shit out of me for hating the place. Watching your parent almost bleed out in a bathtub, will really mess up the ‘happiest place on earth’. Nothing against Disney, not exactly, because I liked Disney, it was just a brutal image that had been stuck in my brain for many years.
Eventually, we joined the masses and decided that we were going to be a Disney family and let our daughter experience everything the park has to offer. I’ll admit that it was fun for me too. I was able to see Disney anew through the wide eyes of my own child. It’s not often that you get a chance to do something like that. I quickly got really excited about seeing Walt Disney World for the first time in thirty years so I decided we were going to go full Griswold and booked week’s vacation. I was aiming for “Dad of the Year” honors with this decision. That plaque was going to look great on my mantle. Actually, I didn’t have a mantle. I was going to put that bad boy on a gold chain and wear it.
After two days at Disney World, you change as a parent. Tired, frustrated and happy is a freakish combination. I loved everything about the park, but I was so incredibly tired. On the morning of day three we were riding the monorail and I’m thinking that my third day was going to be somewhat normal. Exhausting, but normal. I had a bag full of snacks, juice and every other thing strapped to my already weak back and when we sat down, I thought to myself, “This is going to be a rough amazing day”. A few moments later, a family got on and I honestly thought that I would not give them a second glance because eye contact at Disney can be fatal. The ‘others’ think that you have been there already and they want to know all of your secrets. I once had a mother almost tackle me outside of Mission:Space, frantically saying, “You look like you know what’s going on!!”. This other family had a few kids and they were struggling to get everyone on the monorail. I noticed right away that the youngest daughter was missing most of her hair, and that everyone in the family except for her was wearing “Make A Wish” T-shirts. The kid was dressed as a princess — pretty and full of life — she was upbeat, beaming and super excited for her day at Disney. Death, when you are a child can be a whole different thing. She didn’t know, or maybe she did.
My wife and daughter were doing their own thing and I was sitting, like most Disney dads, contemplating how I was going to navigate the parks without losing my mind. Once they sat down, I noticed the father. He was a strong-looking dude and did his best to regulate the family. He too looked prepared for a rough amazing day, only I didn’t yet know the extreme of either side of his coin. It was right here where I became a better dad.
He was watching his family have a great time on the monorail when he turned his back slightly and began to cry. It was a moment I’m assuming he didn’t think he would be sharing with anyone, but our eyes met almost instantly. There was a pain in his that nearly made my heart stop. That look is nothing I had ever seen and, thankfully, have not seen since. Right or wrong, my gut instinct was to look away. I began to cry but picked myself up quickly. I’m not guy who cries but this was something that was hitting me deep. This other dad was losing it, so I said to his youngest, ”Who is your favorite princess?” She shot right back at me “Ariel”. His shoulders began to shake, he wiped his tears quickly and then without hesitation he turned and said. “She’s the prettiest princess, baby.” The little girl’s eyes lit up and she replied, “Daddy, I think this is going to be the best day ever!” He looked at her and said, “Honey, I think you’re right”.
He was a mess. I was a mess. If you were there you’d have been a mess too.
The scene unfolded quickly and they got off the monorail ahead of us. I wanted to talk to him about how in the hell he was managing this whole thing. His kid is dying and he’s still standing — how is this even possible? If my kid dies, I would stop existing, so tell me HOW YOU ARE DOING THIS?
He picked himself up, got the family together and got them on their way. He looked back at me and mouthed the words, “Thank You”. I have cried many nights thinking about this moment and until now, it’s been something that I have kept to myself for years. It’s cliché to say it, but it is true, I held my daughter a little closer for the rest of that day at Disney World. The tea-cups weren’t so cumbersome anymore. Managing Disney suddenly wasn’t something that was hard for me on day three. I decided that, no matter what, life with my kid was going to be special. I didn’t sleep that night, I only thought about that guy and his family. I prayed… holy shit, did I pray.
It took a half of a second, but that man showed me exactly what it means to be a dad.