Deep grief sometimes is almost like a specific location, a coordinate on a map of time. When you are standing in that forest of sorrow, you cannot imagine that you could ever find your way to a better place. But if someone can assure you that they themselves have stood in that same place, and now have moved on, sometimes this will bring hope.
Elizabeth Gilbert
This is a personal essay: Travel and Grieving: Where Do We Go From Here?
Discussing My Loss
The last eight months of my personal life have seen a great deal of loss. Death is not easy to talk about: it’s awkward, it’s sad, and we all process loss differently.
In 2019, my memmy and grammy (grandmother’s), pappy (grandfather), and cousin passed away. I’ve planned too many funerals, cried a lot through old photographs, and seen the true colors of people in my family that forever changed the dynamic of our relationship, whether positive or negative.
I’ve spent weeks sitting in hospitals listening to Perry Como, watching John Wayne movies, discussing hard-to-pronounce medications, monitoring erratic symptoms, and sharing stories that all started with, “Remember when…?”
From mid-November until mid-January, my house was filled with people. Someone was always: awake, cooking, taking up the whole dining table, sleeping on the couch, using all my shampoo, accompanying me everywhere. It was overwhelming to constantly be on the community’s schedule. The non-stop group conversation of planning a burial, life insurance policies, who gets what in the will, and praying the bathroom was free so I could finally have a moment to myself.
As everything started to wrap up, my own train of thought stayed with the ongoing theme of death. I don’t have a will. There’s no end-of-life plan. I have no designated beneficiaries.
Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera…
https://www.instagram.com/p/B5_bKuYFAgT/
After
I finally cracked and knew I needed to GTFO.
The easiest and quickest thing for me, to Snake Plissken’s horror, was escape to New York.
It was cold, rained a lot, I walked until my feet couldn’t handle it anymore, and kept finding random places to go to because I felt I needed a picture of some random building… But, really, it was just all to shake up what I’d been through for the last two months without a break.
But, with those few days in the city, my family and I were still in daily contact. My nephew’s first birthday party was at the end of the week in Virginia, and we had to coordinate the ride from Pennsylvania. With the exception of the party, the weekend was spent still having those same conversations: “Remember when…?”
And – as I’ve said before – we all process differently, but, I really needed a break from these conversations. Or, just a break from my family?
When I got home, nobody was here. Everyone finally left and my guard finally fell. My sleep pattern was horrible, I’d wake up crying, and I finally grieved on my own.
Coping
Normally, as the book worm, you’d think I would have maybe crutched on something, but I didn’t. In fact, I cannot recall writing more in my life than I have in the last few months. It has been so absolutely cathartic, and I am definitely going to suggest that.
Just grab a notebook and fill ‘er up with everything.
My focus was shit, and I’m still bouncing back from that. I couldn’t keep track of things people were relying on me for, all while trying to keep the ideas fresh for my website and coordinating travel through 2020 – because that’s what I needed to do for my company and livelihood. And for me. For my sanity.
From page-to-page in these notebooks, they’re filled with grocery lists, a never-written-down recipe, the beginnings of this post, some ideas for my company, book recommendations, travel plans, and bullet pointing some important conversations my family was having with me because I kept forgetting, and they were exhausted from repeating.
What About Travel?
There are definitely travel plans that changed.
Example: Everywhere is on the list to visit, of course. But, Hawaii has always been a lower priority for me. It looks beautiful, and I know it can be budgeted, but I had other places I wanted to see first. My memmy always wanted to visit Hawaii. I found this out after she passed away. It was something that made me really sad to learn about my grandmother after she died because I connect with everyone in my family over travel, and I felt like I’d missed an opportunity to know her better.
My dad told me he tried to book an all-inclusive trip for her once. Her response to this was, “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare take this away from me. If I go, I’ll have nothing left to dream about.” Read into that what you will, such an odd philosophy, but she made herself very clear.
I’m rather certain she’d never been on an airplane her whole life, too.
Hawaii has been promoted quite quickly since I found this out. Not only do I need to go for my grandmother’s memory, but I plan on bringing some of her ashes with me so part of her can be free in her dream destination.
Another place that has found immediate importance is Seymour, Indiana. My grammy told me she drove with some friends, they were aiming for the west coast, and their car broke down in Seymour. The cost was $75 to fix it, and she and her few friends didn’t have that kind of money. (Late 1940’s, early 50’s timeframe.)
She ended up going to the town’s church, and the priest there got her a job, put her up for the night, and fed her. Even though she was only there for a night, the priest gave her the $75. She met up with her friends at the garage. They had slept on a bench somewhere, were rather hungry, and didn’t find anyone willing to help them.
I love that she shared this with me. It’s the epitome of my grandmother’s strength and resourcefulness. And Seymour deserves a visit because that town kindly helped my grandmother, and indirectly helped my grandmother and I bond more.
When I finally get to these places, I cannot fathom what this could possibly do to my heart. Even as I type about my hypothetical experience, I feel the ugly blubbering building at the back of my throat.
Those Random Moments
There are odd thoughts that catch me off-guard. I can still feel my grandmother’s hand on my face for the picture we took on Christmas Eve, or her spewing off all of these amazing facts about movies. Nothing modern, of course, but anything black & white or with John Wayne, she knew.
There’s nothing to help that. There isn’t a place to hide or travel to that can bring them back or cure the pain. Accepting that these amazing people only exist as memories, photographs, and video clips has and is making me face a lot of unrealized fears, theories, and emotions.
Questions and philosophies regarding my faith and my choices, to name the top couple.
I feel guilty when I stop thinking about them for a moment to talk to a friend, write, or continue to plan my year out.
A lot of people just keep telling me, “that’s all normal.” And, it just really feels shitty.
Continuing the rest of my life without them seems so wrong.
What’s Helpful?
In the travelsphere, we say what to pack, where to go, how to get there, and who to stay with, but sometimes we overlook deeper meanings of why someone would travel there in the first place.
Some of us need to be left alone, and some of us need to be surrounded by our people. We all have a different budget, but whether opting for the long way home from work, or managing to book a flight to the other side of the world, make sure you take a moment for yourself. Cry it out. Punch something. Scream into the stratosphere from the top of a mountain, or shout the lyrics to your favorite song in the car with the volume all the way up.
While I am no grief expert, here are a few things I’ve found helpful:
- Writing – Wal-mart has spiral notebooks they sell for like ~20 cents during back to school, and I’ve been filling them up like crazy.
- Baths – I am not a bath person, but a nice hot bath has helped me relax. With my manic depression, my insomnia is in overdrive. These have helped with my sore muscles and encouraging time to myself.
- My cats – my furry little girls are always around, but they’ve definitely been underfoot more than I’ve ever seen them. Animals are amazing therapists. Cuddles, treats, and laser pointers help a lot!
- Leaving the TV on – I haven’t had the energy or attention to really watch it, but the silence is too much. The background noise has been a comfort.
- An activity – I’ve kept a 1500 piece puzzle on my dining table for the last two months. It was a nice way to super concentrate and let all thoughts take the back burner. Other people in my family would help with it, as well. When my mom went home to Virginia, she let me know she bought two puzzles right away. I also colored a lot. On my own, and with my nephews.
- Cooking – I started to make recipes I’ve never made before, or make big meals for everyone to give me something to do.
- Allowing myself to be sad. I’m the poster child for ‘my cup overfloweth with unspoken emotions’, and I set that aside. It’s hard to say what could possibly trigger some tears, and the people in my life have been understanding when I need to take a minute.
I don’t have any book recommendations for this post. But, if you’ve had a rough go through loss and you found a helpful book, please list it in the comments below. Not only will I check it out, it may be a helpful suggestion to others facing loss, too.
I wasn’t sure what path this post would lead down. But it felt good to write. It felt good to share.
How Has Travel helped you cope with grieving?
You can find more stories and helpful travel tips on the blog here (<- link)!
Your writing is so powerful and vulnerable. Love this! Sorry for your loss but I’m so excited for your future. Hawaii will be magical and the fact that you’re doing it for your grandmother will make it even more so.
Thank you, Adeira! It’s been a crap time, but I’m excited for my future, too. I’m really looking forward to Hawaii. I’m hoping to spend a nice chunk of time there.