PART THIRTY FIVE. THE FINAL EPISODE:
Although it has been only four days, it seems long ago that we last stood in Side B Level One of the main terminal at MCO. Between our arrival and departure dates extends a gulf of time as deep and mysterious as the Chasm of Fire. A part of us will remain here on this side of the gulf, because whenever we want we can summon up our memories of this trip. We will close our eyes and be at Disney World reliving the fun and excitement we enjoyed. But our bodies must cross the Chasm of Fire and return home.
We take the escalator upstairs and make our way through the hallway which safely spans the unseen Chasm. I smell a faint odor of smoke. Heat radiates through the floor, but in a moment we pass safely to Side A and are one segment of our journey closer to home.
We have plenty of time before our flight. My stomach feels much better, and since there will be no food on the plane and we don’t arrive home until nearly 11:00 PM, we decide to have an early dinner at one of the fast food places. The dining area enjoys a sunny spot with palm trees reaching toward the glass ceiling. It’s a cheerful place to sit and kill time. New arrivals stream past us and it’s hard not to envy their good fortune at beginning their trip when we are ending ours.
After dinner we proceed to the gate lounge and wait for our flight. Our two hours pass uneventfully and before long it’s time to board. We enter the plane and find our seat assignments which are midway back on the left side. As usual Lowell gets the window seat. We settle in and buckle up.
I’ve never understood why airlines dictate you must turn off electronic devices and cell phones, but I follow orders and do it anyway. Will an electronic signal make the plane suddenly do barrel rolls and loop de loops? Pitch forward in a nose dive? Become hopelessly lost and take everyone to Vladivostok? I don’t know, and I don’t want to find out. When it comes to safety, why take chances? Is it so tough to go a couple hours without a video game? A computer? Or a cell phone?
Apparently it is.
The flight attendant has already given the “turn off your electronic devices” speech, when some bozo’s phone rings. He sits four rows up on the opposite side of the aisle with another man, maybe a co-worker, who is drinking coffee and stuffing his face with a donut.
Instead of turning off the phone or answering with, “I can’t talk now,” the cell phone maniac launches into a two minute conversation. In the meantime, his buddy in the next seat must be making an Excel spreadsheet of every Starbucks Coffee and Krispy Kreme Donut shop we fly over on our way home, because I hear the distinctive Microsoft Bing Bong when you screw something up and your software announces that you’re a moron.
A slightly less cheerful voice than before comes over the PA, “May I remind you that all electronic devices must be turned off at this time. Thank you.”
Thank you for repeating the warning, I think to myself, glaring at the back of the violators’ heads. I am not imagining: other people give them dirty looks, too.
We wait to taxi down the runway. The plane is pretty quiet so there’s no missing it when the phone rings AGAIN.
This is unbelievable.
Muttered grumbles rise from the surrounding seats. Why do some people think airline safety rules don’t apply to them?
A female flight attendant walks to the offender’s seat and smiling slightly says through clenched teeth, “I invite you to turn off your phone and all electronic devices.
I smother a snicker. I’ll have to remember that line. It could come in quite handy at home on a number of occasions. Such as, “I invite you to get that pile of mail off my dining room table,” or “I invite you to go put your socks in the hamper.”
The attendant gives the moron a look that says, “And don’t make me invite you again, then stalks away and takes her seat for take off. We get into position behind a half dozen planes and wait our turn. One plane, two planes, three planes taxi down the runway and take off.
The cell phone rings again.
This time a chorus of angry voices shouts: “Turn the phone OFF!” . . . “You’re going to get us all KILLED!” Frankly, I can’t repeat some of the comments since they include invectives that quite imaginatively describe his cell phone and what he should do with it. I assure you that none of the suggestions are outlined in his Verizon Calling Plan. Indeed, they would most certainly violate his warranty. If not his dignity. Likely, both.
Since the plane is moving, the flight attendants can’t get out of their seats or I’m sure they would rip the phone from his hand, throw it down on the aisle, then drive their snack cart over it. Ten times. When they finished, he’d get back a pile of shattered plastic and mangled microchips in an air sickness bag. Unfortunately, the best they can do is stare at him with such tangible fury that it’s a wonder his clothes don’t burst into flames or his eyes shrivel in their sockets. The man in the seat behind him is a hair’s breadth from going right over the seat and slamming the dork’s face against the tray table a few dozen times. Despite having just left the Happiest Place on Earth, and not being a violent person by nature, I confess I enjoy that mental image.
I believe Cell Phone Guy turns off his phone at this point because we do not end up in Vladivostok, and although we experience a bit of mild turbulence along the way we do not perform any barrel rolls or loop-de-loops. I am relieved when we land for our connecting flight and the two men disappear in the crowd. If they have another flight today, I pity the people stuck with them.
Our second flight is full of law abiding citizens who buckle up, then busy themselves with in-flight magazines and gadget catalogs. There are no ringing cell phones, beeping video games or Bing-Bonging laptops. I feel groggy and safe enough to drift off to sleep, but I fight the urge. As long as we’re on the plane we’re still officially “On Vacation” and I don’t want to waste our final moments sleeping.
We arrive on time, but our flight is among the last of the day, so the airport is like a ghost town. Heaven help anyone who is hungry because there’s no food except what you can get out of a vending machine, and if you don’t walk fast enough, maintenance will swab your heels with their mops. We usually travel with only carry on bags, so it’s irritating to wait for the luggage carousel to deliver our bags. The number of nearly identical bags that pass on the conveyor would be disturbing if we owned black luggage. Fortunately our tweed suitcase and duffle with their distinctive lime green Mickey head tags are hard to miss.
As we leave the airport and get in line for the shuttle that will take us to our car, I can’t help but sigh as I realize that now our vacation is actually over. We’ll go back to our normal work-a-day lives, where emails await, phone calls must be returned, mail must be opened and tasks that were put off until “after vacation” can no longer be ignored.
We ride in near-silence for thirty-five minutes which gives me time to acclimate myself to the Real World, while simultaneously reflecting on our whirlwind vacation and the Magic of Disney. Silly people do have more fun. I could better justify our airline tickets if we had stayed twice as long, and we could have accomplished much more during a longer trip, but we found more than our share of “magic” during this short “impractical” trip. The Magic is there waiting if you open your heart. But more importantly, the Magic is at home, at work, and at your friend’s and family’s homes. The Magic existed before Walt gave it a name and created a place where we could go to experience it. It’s all around us; it’s just easier to feel it in Walt’s happy and carefree world. Sometimes Magic happens in that moment when someone does you an unexpected kindness and makes you feel important and special. Magic happens when you’re surprised by a gift or a favor that you didn’t expect and don’t deserve. We all long for that feeling of delight that makes us suddenly more alive than we felt a moment ago. We can make that magic happen in the lives of those around us, and we can open our hearts to experience it ourselves at unexpected times and places every day.
We pull into our driveway and that thought makes me smile. There’s magic pulling up to our house which kind friends have watched over in our absence. There’s magic opening the front door and seeing our darling little friend Tornado waiting in the hallway with a joyous “Mmmeeoowww!” Tomorrow night we’ll make a fire in the big stone fireplace that Lowell built. We’ll curl up on the couch before the flickering flames and reminisce about our vacation, and that will be magical, too. Then I’ll slip off to our bedroom and recreate “turn down service” and lay on our pillows the chocolate squares and Native American proverb cards I brought home from the Lodge.
Until your next Disney vacation, I wish you all the ability to find and experience The Magic with those you love, today and everyday. God Bless you all.
THE END
Tornado is going to make it.....I just know it now! I cannot tell you how happy I am to hear that she's made so much progress in such little time. I believe with all my heart that it had everything to do with many prayers all going up at the same time for the precious, little thing. There's power in numbers, I tell ya!
Hurray for small miracles! 
Thanks for writing such a great trip report and for helping me fill the days until my next disney vacation.
