Hard to believe, but I had a lost husband at Disneyworld. We went there using our airmiles a couple of years ago. Bill had never been to Florida and I’d been several times so it was a whole new experience for him. We stayed in nearby Kissimmee and took the shuttle for our three days in the parks. He didn’t know it, but I had gone on-line and purchased a ‘backstage’ pass for him to work on the Disneyland Railroad.
To say that my husband is a bit of a train freak is like saying Walt Disney used to draw. Bill is obsessed by anything running on a track. If there is a train or trolley involved, I can always get him to go someplace I want to go. We saw central Mexico by going on the Copper Canyon Train and it was amazing. We went to England, Wales, and Scotland because we got to ride on the tube in London, the Twynn and Festiniog Railways in Wales. Then there was British Rail in Scotland. He always manages to chat up the conductor and has, more than once, been offered a ride in the engine room while I’m left on my own in the back.
Our little retirement house has train magazines on the coffee table, on the end tables, in the bathroom, in storage and in his train shed in the back yard. We have little pieces of, what I now call “Train Treasures” all over the place. He was offended by what I used to call it. That’s life with Bill. On the really good side, at least he has a hobby. I can paint or work on the computer all day long and he’s happily laying track or making scenery.
But back to Disneyworld. We met the conductor at the gate to the Magic Kingdom at 7:30 in the morning – long before the park opened. I don’t even think he waved goodbye, he was off to do trains! Big trains! I was on my own until noon when I was supposed to meet him on the platform by the main gate. I waited. And waited. And waited. He didn’t have a cell phone. After an hour the employees started noticing me pacing and looking worried/mad. One of the train conductors approached and asked if everything was ok. “My husband is late” I told him. Half an hour later, someone else came up and asked the same thing. Finally, they brought me some water. I told the Conductor that Bill had disappeared into the bowels of Disneyworld’s train shop and hadn’t come out. “Ahh” he said. “That happens a lot.” So I went shopping down Main Street.
About 4 PM, here comes starry-eyed Bill with a bag of train stuff. After a profuse apology for being gone so long, he started telling me all about what he’d done, saw, and learned. He talked about it for days (I’m glazing over here, folks) and then he retold it again to all our friends when we got home. He leaves out the part about me left waiting on the platform. His backstage pass was the hit of the trip for him.
Would I get him another backstage pass? You bet! He loved it. But I’d bring a book, lunch, and a bigger shopping bag! How many wives can say they lost their husband at Disneyworld?
Photo by Cheryl, Editor