Last weekend, we curled up together as a family and watched Charlie and the Chocolate Factory starring Johnny Depp. It had been quite some time since I last saw it and I felt a wave of memories wash over me the moment the opening scene began. Movies have a way of becoming markers in our lives. They freeze moments in time and when revisited they unlock chapters of our past that we sometimes forget are still tucked inside us. As soon as the whimsical music began I felt myself drifting back to when my daughter Lani was just a toddler and the world felt simpler and quieter in a way only early parenthood can.
I remember vividly how small she was when the movie first came out in two thousand five. She was about two years old at the time and even though she was tiny her fascination with the story was enormous. She adored every song every bright color every strange and wonderful character. She would sit there with wide curious eyes taking in the magic of Willy Wonka's world and she wanted to watch it again the moment the credits rolled. I can still picture her toddling around the living room humming the tunes and quoting the lines in her sweet little voice. She watched it so many times that eventually the movie became woven into the fabric of our daily life. For her it was not just entertainment. It was joy and imagination and wonder all at once.
When she turned three we began planning a trip to Pennsylvania to visit Eds sister. During that visit we decided we would take Lani to Hershey's Chocolate World. The moment the idea came up something inside me lit up. It was a chance to take her love for the movie and turn it into something larger than life. I wanted that trip to be more than a simple outing. I wanted it to become a memory that she would carry with her forever. As a parent you learn quickly that children remember the little things more than anything else. They remember the moments when you showed up fully present and willing to see the world through their eyes. So I made a promise to myself that I would make this experience magical for her.
In the months leading up to the trip I began putting together a surprise that she had no idea about. I bought the biggest chocolate bars I could find the kind that look almost unreal in their size. I printed my own WONKA labels and carefully wrapped the bars so they looked exactly like the ones from the movie. Each time we gave her one she tore into it hoping for what every child hopes for when watching that story. She wanted the Golden Ticket. The first few did not have one of course. I watched her expression each time and even though she did not find the ticket she never stopped believing that the next one might be the one. Her excitement never faded. If anything it grew.
What she did not know was that I had already made my own shimmering WONKA Golden Ticket waiting to be placed in the final chocolate bar. I still remember that day. The anticipation in the room felt almost electric. She held the bar in her little hands unaware that this was the moment she had been waiting for. When she opened it and saw the golden shine her entire face lit up with pure joy. Her smile stretched wide and her whole body bounced with excitement. It was one of those moments where time stands still for a parent. You watch your child feel something enormous and beautiful and you realize you would do anything in the world to give them that feeling again. That video of her reaction is still one of my favorite memories because it captures exactly what love looks like when seen in a child’s eyes.
So we took her to the chocolate factory and watching her experience it in person was like witnessing a dream turn into reality. Hershey smells like cocoa the moment you walk in and everything around you seems touched by candy coated wonder. For Lani it felt like stepping directly into the movie she loved so much. She looked around with an expression that I can only describe as awe. Every display every taste test every animated character was more magical because it connected to something she already adored. She held onto Ed's hand and mine as if guiding us through her own world. Seeing her so happy made every bit of preparation and planning absolutely worth it.
Looking back now I think about why that memory still means so much to me. It is because moments like that remind me of the true heart of parenting. Children do not stay little for long. Their interests shift. Their personalities grow. Their worlds expand faster than we ever expect. So when they love something whether it is a movie or a place or an idea it becomes an opportunity for us to build a memory that will last far beyond childhood. That day taught me that showing up for your kids in these small yet thoughtful ways is not just a gesture. It is an expression of love that settles deep into who they become.
My kids are the most important part of my life. Everything I do everything I plan every dream I hold for the future includes them at the center of it. I would do absolutely anything for them. They shape the way I see the world. They give purpose to my choices and strength to my days. Being their parent has taught me what unconditional love truly feels like. It has taught me to cherish every moment because even the smallest memory can become the one they look back on years later with warmth and gratitude.
That weekend when we watched the movie again I felt all of this come flooding back. I saw Lani no longer a toddler but growing into her own person and yet still lighting up at the same scenes she loved as a child. It reminded me that the memories we make with our children do not fade. They become part of the stories they tell and part of the love they carry forward. It made me grateful for every time I chose to go a little further to make something special for them. Parents are given only so many chances to create magic in their children’s lives and I want to take every single one of those chances.
Because in the end it is not the chocolate bars or the movie or the trip that mattered most. It was being together. It was seeing my child’s happiness come alive. It was knowing that she would remember that feeling for the rest of her life. And I will too.
