I hope my story isn't too much of a downer. Feel free to skip.
I'd always been a Disney fan and I always loved to draw. I was 13 years old the very first time I ever saw Ariel and became vaguely aware of the movie, thanks to a small drawing on the front of Newsweek. I was especially excited at the thought of a new Disney heroine and begged my mom to buy the magazine for me, but of course she declined since I was "too young" for a magazine with such wordy, boring articles.

My parents did take me to see the film around Thanksgiving, and my dad was quick to say that it "wasn't as good as the ones Walt made." I was getting weekly allergy shots at the time, and I remember one of the magazines at my doctor's office, maybe Family Circle, had a page of the characters to cut out as Christmas ornaments, and I ripped it out and took it home so I could try drawing Ariel.

The morning after Thanksgiving, I pulled out the ornament page I had stashed away and was working on my very first drawing of her. In the middle of coloring it, I saw my uncle walking into our driveway with a strange man. I told my mom we had company, and when she glanced out the window she started crying.
My parents hadn't told me that my middle brother hadn't come home that night, and that they'd been listening to the radio all morning. They were worried over the news of a fatal traffic accident involving two unidentified young men. My mom recognized that stranger as the local coroner, and immediately knew why he and my uncle were there. Both my brother and my cousin were less than a mile from home when the truck rolled, killing them both instantly.
I'll always see TLM as the last very last moment of my childhood innocence, before our family was forever torn apart. Once it came to VHS, watching it was an escape to the past, to happier times. And oddly enough, my dad really warmed up to it, and both of my parents enjoyed watching it with me often. For the 1997 rerelease, I went to the theater by myself; by then my mother had passed away. After my dad passed away in 2004, I pretty much couldn't watch it anymore, regardless of the fact I'd long since memorized it, because I'd just cry throughout the entire thing. As recently as two years ago, I couldn't even listen to "Part of Your World" without breaking down.
I reacquainted myself with it for the Blu-ray release, waiting on the corrected disc to arrive in the mail. I don't know how long it had been since I had fully watched it, but even though I was once again watching it all by myself, I felt like I was among friends. I could remember the parts my parents liked, and I could remember being the little 13-year-old staring at the big screen, wide-eyed with wonder and hope. I'll always love Ariel, and I'll always love her story with the bittersweet ending.