2 minute read

Erika Gusenbauer

Next Article
Alyson Von Massow

Alyson Von Massow

An Unchanged Place

CHANGE IS AN INEVITABLE PART OF LIFE. Everyone complains about it at some time or another, but that doesn’t stop things from changing. Some changes are big and can be noticed right away. Others are so small that they go unnoticed until the oddest of times.

Disney World was, and still is, a popular vacation spot for young families. My family was one of the many that made a place for it in our hearts. Growing up, I travelled there numerous times; it was one of the few places that the whole family, grandparents included, felt comfortable visiting. However, as the children got older, our interest in Disney faded, and our annual vacations became less and less frequent until they stopped entirely. That is, until my grandparents’ sixty-fifth anniversary. We all agreed it would be fitting to be “welcomed home again,” to celebrate a special occasion in a place that we associated with so many family memories. So after much organizing and many phone calls, we were off to Disney, with the excitement of four-year-olds.

From the instant we arrived at the same hotel and were greeted with the same standard “Welcome home,” my excitement was replaced with a feeling of uneasiness. I could not pinpoint its root, but I could certainly feel it growing with each activity. It grew as my family visited the same litter-free parks, rode the same rides, ate the same ice cream by the same pool, and even at night when we slept in the same pullout beds, in the same blue and yellow rooms that I remembered. It was as if nothing had changed, like I had been sent back in time as some sort of cruel joke. That very thought consumed me until I finally cracked.

It was our fifth day in Disney, a beautiful day with a clear sky, so I told my parents I was going to take a walk. Along the way, I stopped in the bakery and was faced with the familiar long line-ups. I took my place in line and eventually I made it to the counter. When I got there, I looked at the treats and noticed they were the same as those I gawked at when I was younger. Not one baked good had been replaced or modified in the slightest in over five years. It was those identical baked goods that broke me. With a fleeting look at the merchant - the poor man probably thought I was disgusted with him - I turned on my heels and left. I continued walking, trying to calm my nerves and convince myself someone wasn’t playing a sick joke on me, when I realized where I was. I was in the identical spot where, on our last vacation, I had accidentally gotten separated from my parents. They had spent the better part of an hour looking for me, sick with worry. This time, even though I was in the same circumstance, they would not be looking for me; they probably wouldn’t even be worried. I realized then that I had grown up much more than I had realized. I was no longer a lost child waiting in fear for my parents to find me. I was a confident young adult whom my parents trusted would return to the hotel safely. I had not noticed myself changing because all around me at home, I was surrounded by change. It had taken a trip to an unchanged place to show me that much.

Some people claim they are not good with change. They complain so that it is easier; they spend their whole lives trying to stop it, and still they fail. Maybe the more practical thing to fear is the absence of change, for without it we cannot progress. Embrace the magic of change and let it change you.

This article is from: