Dear Diary, I Need a One Way Ticket to Neverland.

Let me be the first to say, I’m not a Disney adult. I know this is going to cause major uproar (especially with JGT; I swear you my girl and I’ll go any time just to hang out with you), but I’ve just never understood how it could be fun at my age. I’m also not a huge fan of rollercoasters (blame the vertigo) and I hate the idea of paying for overpriced food and bevs (blame my frugal side). BUT, I will not knock a good Disney movie. Not these new animated movies they've created, I’m talking about the old school ones that McDonald’s used to make commemorative plates and cups after. 90’s babies, you KNOW what plates and cups I’m talking about. I’ve got a toss-up for favorite ‘old-school’ Disney movie. I used to love watching The Lion King with my dad; I’ve got vivid memories of us on the couch watching it together and crying when Mufasa dies (hope that wasn’t a Spoiler for anyone). I used to love Alice in Wonderland because I loved that every animal/plant could speak, and as I’ve gotten older I appreciate that Disney could make Lewis Carroll’s imagination come to life. I loved Beauty and the Beast, mainly because I felt like I looked like Belle when I was younger, but also how bad ass is it that she wasn’t scared of this big ugly beast and could look past someone’s appearance to see who they really were inside?

If I’m being honest, Peter Pan wasn’t a huge favorite of mine (but I obvi had it in my VHS collection). Sure going to some tropical island where parents weren’t around seemed great, but I didn’t understand why these kids NEVER wanted to grow up. Clearly, they were not thinking about all the cool things that come with being an adult. Did they not want to drive a car? Did they not want to go to college? They didn’t think living on their own would be super cool? Idiots! These kids didn’t know what they were about to miss (car taxes, cell phone bills, and health insurance to name a few)!

And then flash-forward to 2020, and I’m like where in God’s name did my childhood go, why does my back always hurt, and when do bills stop happening?! Someone call my boy PeterPan and get me on a first class flight to Neverland stat! It’s not like I wish I could go back and change things about my childhood; I've always thought that every single thing I've experienced has developed me into the person I am today. No, I wouldn't go back and change anything; I just want to go back and feel the simplicity of life ‘back in the day’. There are so many great memories I’ve created throughout my life; memories of a time when life wasn’t a huge cluster fuck like it is now.

For example, I remember how blissful Saturday mornings in elementary school were. Those were the good ole days. My mom used to work weekends at the hospital, so it’d just be me and Robertito (yes, this was before I had siblings). We’d wake up and head to McDonald’s to get a Big Breakfast platter to split. But, we didn’t just drive there, because that's not memorable at all. We used to walk there, and Dad and I would always search for loose change on the sidewalk to see who could collect the most money; winner took all. We’d get that Big Breakfast and head straight back to living room where we’d watch Saturday morning cartoons. I’m talking about Tom & Jerry, The Flintstones, and Scooby Doo. I wish my Saturday mornings felt that easy again. Now, no matter how hard I try to make them full of rest and enjoying time with family and friends, it’s clouded by this nagging thought that Wes is no longer here to create Saturday memories with me.

I remember how peaceful it was for me when I spent time at my Nannie and Poppie’s growing up. Those were the good ole days. I’m the oldest of their grandchildren (and quite obviously their favorite), next in line being my sister, so for a solid 6+ years their house was my sanctuary. We had a pretty steady routine, but it was perfect for me. Friday nights were spent hanging out on the couch; Nannie and Poppie usually watched DateLine or The Tonight Show, while I read books. On Saturdays, Nannie would cook eggs and grits for breakfast and we'd head to the library (I’m such a nerd I know), Riverbanks Zoo, or I'd help Poppie in his garden. You can see that we didn’t really do many ‘fancy’ things, but we sure did enjoy each other’s company. I wish I could experience that feeling with Wes again…that ‘we don’t need to do much; we just need to be with each other’ type of feeling.

I remember how much fun I had being a part of my middle and high school volleyball teams. Those were the good ole days. I loved the competitive aspect, but I loved the bonds I built with those girls even more. I remember the sleepovers we’d have; we’d stay up til 4 AM watching movies, talking about the latest gossip, and eating too much junk food. I remember the pre-game rituals and warm up songs we had. We’d walk (pre-license) or drive (third times a charm to pass the driving test apparently) to Wendy’s or Taco Bell and stock up on quality nutrition before warming up to crush our opponents. I remember kicking ass against rivals and during playoff games and I remember (in detail) the worst games of my life. I miss being a part of team, not just with my girls but with Wes. I miss us getting together to talk about a strategy for life, work, and a future family. I miss us having weekly rituals, like Tsunami date nights, and team bonding time, like binge watching the newest season of Stranger Things with a big ass bottle of wine.

I remember how interesting it was to have my first boyfriend (this one’s for you Chad!). Those were the good ole days. As stated numerous times before, emotions aren’t my thing, so when I brought home my first crush, I’m fairly certain my parents weren’t sure if I was being sarcastic or what. We were in eighth grade, so the extent of ‘dating’ at that time was 1.) You and all your friends come to my house and hang out while my dad keeps a watchful eye on us (and threatens to chop your balls off with hedge trimmers), or 2.) My friends and I will come to your house while your mom keeps a watchful eye on us (Mrs. Sharon was too sweet to threaten me with hedge trimmers, praise God). His best guy friends became some of my best guy friends and all of us together created some of the best memories of 8th/9th grade year including our huge group of friends going to the movies, swimming at my house, and football on Saturdays at Casa Del Diaz. It seems I haven't changed much since middle school (not sure if this is good or bad yet), because when I introduced Wes to my family, we had another “So is this, like, a real boyfriend or what?” moments. It was real; even though I’d never admit it out loud because boys have cooties or some shit like that. I miss the moments when Wes and I were first getting to know each other, hanging out with each other’s friends and families and trying to see where things would go. I miss the moments when all of our friends would hang out after a post-game win in Newberry, or would go out for a boat ride on the lake, or would get together for football on Saturdays.

I remember how much fun my dad’s family vacations were when I was young. Those were the good ole days. All 80+ Ricans would pile in two houses in Mount Pleasant, Litchfield, or Edisto and Live. It. The. Hell. Up. for a week. My Grammie would make the best rice and beans you’d ever taste, and we couldn’t forget the ham (Diaz staple for large gatherings). All of cousins would float like a pack of whales (not based on individual size because we’re all super slim and athletic, but based on the fact that there are like 30+ of us) in whatever body of water was closest all day long. At nights, we’d gather around and play Left, Right, Center or Blackjack to please the Money Man, our Chi Chi. Nothing says family like gambling, amirite?! One time, our parents even let all of us kids have full reign of one entire house while the parents stayed in the other. We spent the night trying to learn all the sick dance moves from “You Got Served”, and eating as much ice cream as possible. As we've gotten older, we don’t take as many family vacations as a whole family anymore, but we do try to get together for as many holidays and life events as possible. I miss Wes being a part of those family functions with me. He loved my aunts and uncles, cousins, and grandparents, as his own. He could keep up with their shit talking, their competitiveness for cornhole, and with the love they offered him immediately. I wish he were still here to enjoy their company with me.

I guess what I’m trying to say in all of this, is maybe Peter Pan wasn’t as idiotic as I thought he was as a child. Maybe Neverland is something we don’t fully comprehend until we reach adulthood, and it’s too late to go there. Now that I think about it though, maybe there’s something beautiful in the fact that Neverland isn’t a real place. These memories I have of ‘the good ole days’ may not be as good if they weren’t really memories. I wouldn’t feel the need to latch on to what made these memories so great if I could just experience them on a daily repeat in Neverland.

I’ve learned after losing Wes that I value the most minuscule of memories sometimes more than our big life events. For example, I’ll never forget the one night we made a fort in our living room and binge watched the new season of Riverdale while eating chips and queso until 3 AM. At the time, it was just something we did on a random Friday; there was no significance to the date, or show, or food (besides queso being my main food group). It’s just one of those experiences permanently ingrained in mind. I’ll never forget the one time we had our usual Tsunami date night and Wes got me to try this sushi roll with salmon, tuna, and god knows what else from the ocean. It was my first time ever trying a roll with any raw fish besides tuna, and quite honestly I’m not sure how he convinced me to do it. I’m not usually one to expand my horizons. I remember him looking at me saying “Ash, just do it. If you hate it, you hate it. If you don’t, then you added something new to the list of things you like from here.” He made it sound reasonable enough; I blame it on his time in sales. I took a huge bite and began chewing, only to find out that raw salmon has the texture of, what I could only imagine, chewing raw chicken is like. I kept trying to chew and get that shit down, but it wasn’t working. So I did what any normal, well-mannered, adult would do; I hovered over an appetizer plate and spit that shit out. Imagine a baby trying food they didn’t like for the first time. You would think that would have grossed out my extremely hot date sitting across from me, but he just burst out laughing and said “I’m so surprised I talked you in to doing that. I wish you could have seen your face after the first bite.” Again, not a moment most people would remember because the significance factor is low, but for some reason it hasn’t left me.

So, PSA PEOPLE, don’t take these small moments life throw at you for granted. These are the days you’ll look back on wishing you could re-live them. Take these days as chances to build memories instead of just an opportunity to check off a box on life’s to-do list. Some days might look or feel minuscule, but those may just be the moments you remember most when it’s all said and done. Start taking full advantage of every opportunity you have to make a memory because those will be the ‘good ole days’ you speak of one day.

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Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. Psalm 90:12