Saturday 16th May

We walked out to one of the beaches today, where a food and drink festival was happening. It was warm and sunny, flags fluttering in the breeze, people milling around or sitting on the sand. We bought a cold drink and were joined by my sister and our niece.

We began talking about you, as we always do, saying what you would have done, or what you might have eaten (something called The Pig Dog would have appealed to you, I’m sure).

Then somehow, the conversation turned to Sea World, and how you would go off on your own, queue for the rides, strap yourself in, and have fun for hours, meeting up in say, two hours, at a designated spot, for food and drink. You loved Manta, Kraken, Antarctica and Journey to Atlantis.

On one of our earliest trips to Sea World though, you became lost. We could not find you. We searched everywhere for what seemed like hours. I would go one way round the park, my husband another, and when we met up, neither had seen you. We were becoming worried. And then my husband’s cell phone rings. It is the Customer Services desk, and they have a lost child with them, (well, a young man really), and would we like to collect him? Our son could retain and recall many different phone numbers, and certainly knew his Dad’s. (One of his traits of Aspergers included a wonderful memory for trivia, lists and numbers). When we found him, he was sitting in air conditioned comfort, drinking a soda, chatting away. No worries. He knew exactly what to do, by presenting himself as a ‘lost child’, and waiting for the parents to arrive!

A few more rides, some food, then he was ready to leave. He’d had a fun day: we were absolutely tired out!

Another year we came to Sea World, when you were much older, and you asked to attend an evening dinner show, a Hawaiian Luau. You thought it would be grown up and posh. Upon entering we were given colourful garlands, a small glass of rum punch, and then found a table at the front of the stage. You loved the fire spectacle, the lovely Hawaiian dancers and the acrobatic gymnasts.

It was lovely, sitting in the sunshine this afternoon, talking about you, remembering happy times, but my goodness, it does though, makes us so sad.

We talk to you later on in the early evening, as the sun is going down behind the trees in the cemetery. The jets are leaving their vapour trails overhead, and that is a reminder to us: by now, most of our summer holiday would have been booked, and you would be pestering us for the ‘itinerary’, and helping to organise various trips and outings as we made our way down to Orlando from South Carolina.

I don’t know what we will do. You have been traveling with us for thirty years. Everything was planned around you and your brother initially, then he moved on, and we continued to look after you, taking you everywhere with us. It will never, ever be the same again.

I hope you are traveling and soaring high with the angels up there, continuing your journeys.

Fly high, fly free xxxxxx

Saturday 9th May

Sitting with my husband and sister, having a morning coffee, we began to talk about you, and your love of water. In Orlando, on our annual holidays, we have been visiting Aquatica every year since it opened in 2008, and you used to have so much fun there.

Last year you couldn’t wait to go on the new water-flume-drop, where the floor beneath your feet suddenly gives way, and you fall vertically, twisting and turning in the tunnel, until you’re ejected into the pool at the bottom. Your face, when you came towards us, having completed the ride, was full of excitement and laughter. Adrenaline pumping, you immediately turned round and joined the queue for another go. Ihu’s Breakaway Falls certainly gained your vote that day.

Another ride you always enjoyed was the Walhalla Wave, a twisty family ride, where you all sit cross-legged inside a huge rubber ring, and splash and speed downwards, through dark tunnels and open curves. The steps up to the platform giving magnificent views of SeaWorld and beyond.

The lazy rivers and wave pools were places to go to catch your breath, in between the more thrilling rides. We used to arrive just after opening, stake our place beneath a huge umbrella, chill awhile, and then wander around the park, queuing up wherever took our fancy. Quite often you would go off on your own, feeling safe, coming back at various intervals for food and drink.

Many times the afternoon would bring a thunderstorm, when the water rides and pools had to be cleared. By then we were ready for a change, and would usually end up running to the car as the big raindrops began to fall, and thunder rumbled slowly overhead. You especially liked it when we had ‘Preferred Parking’, as that meant we didn’t have to dash so far to reach the safety of our car. We were all hot and fairly tired by then, worn out by the heat and all the water rides we had been on.

We loved seeing you happy and having fun. Your smile and laughter made so much difference to our days. Orlando was your magical, summer playground, and we did everything we could to help you get the most from our time there.

I don’t know why we focused on Aquatica this morning, reminiscing about all the different types of slides, flumes through the dolphin pool, drops, rapids, waves, the heat, the shade, the people, and you. We only went there because of you. So that we could see the delight in your face. And really, we were all big kids at heart.

Missing you so much, my darling water-baby boy.

And yes, we did visit your graveside today, and we told you about our conversation, and how much we knew you loved going on holiday, and especially checking out any of the new rides. Dream about Aquatica tonight, and I’ll be there with you.

Love you xxxxx