Makes me want to set off on my next adventure. I’m heading to Malta next Spring and cannot wait to drop into the experience you describe so beautifully!
In retirement, my scheduled routines have become work, and so I travel to break things up. Recently, I returned to Chile and visited my brother and cousins who treated me like visiting royalty. I dined and drank and visited with them as never before due to the fact that I had no schedule or places I had to visit. Our conversations became deeper, our philosophies explained and defended calmly, and our bonds were forevever strengthened, as was the love we were able to share by spending time with each other. Nothing re-energizes one more than taking the time to live in the moment and appreciate what's before them.
We buried my husband in the morning and in the evening his sister and I left for 3 weeks in the UK. We had planned the trip for months before he passed away. We only thought about canceling it for a minute. The funny thing was, we both thought we would spend time talking about him, “processing our grief”, but we didn’t. We used the time to relax and decompress. I knew it would all hit like a sledge hammer as soon as I got back, but traveling gave us time to prepare for whatever came next.
It sounds like that trip was exactly what you needed, space to breathe. I imagine the change of scenery offered a kind of soft landing. How has it been since you got back?
It was seven years ago. There were a few months between his death and the funeral which I barely remember. I got back from England feeling like I might actually survive. My life has moved forward, even if it wasn’t the life I thought I’d have in my senior years.
Love everything about this whole piece. We are going to spend a month in the South of France for all these very reasons.
And yes, we need to talk about death to live more fully in the present. That’s what we write about at Pages By The Sea and also the reason I love reading your posts.
There's so much here I want to respond to (affirmatively), but I'll just share one especially profound realization I've had lately. My kids are three and seven. Before they fall asleep, each of them recently has shown interest in me telling them stories from my life, after we're done reading and the lights are off. I'm 40, but a dissproportionate number of my stories come from travels that I did almost 20 years ago. Moments that I experienced in Spain, Peru, India, Kenya are all engrained in my mind just as vividly as the layout of my late Grandma's house, or my own childhood home. We're shaped just as much by peak experiences as we are by the routines. I don't have a need to travel the way I used to, but I'm so grateful that I did when I. It's the interplay, and the integration of rhythm and disruption that's most profound.
I don’t have children, but I’ve noticed something similar. Many of my favorite stories originate from my travels. Not just the places, but the versions of myself and the people I met while I was there. I imagine how sweet it’ll be when your kids grow up, set out on their own, and come back with stories to tell you. What a beautiful cycle to be part of.
Makes me want to set off on my next adventure. I’m heading to Malta next Spring and cannot wait to drop into the experience you describe so beautifully!
In retirement, my scheduled routines have become work, and so I travel to break things up. Recently, I returned to Chile and visited my brother and cousins who treated me like visiting royalty. I dined and drank and visited with them as never before due to the fact that I had no schedule or places I had to visit. Our conversations became deeper, our philosophies explained and defended calmly, and our bonds were forevever strengthened, as was the love we were able to share by spending time with each other. Nothing re-energizes one more than taking the time to live in the moment and appreciate what's before them.
Sounds like a wonderful trip! I've always wanted to go to Chile.
I love this for you, Paul! How wonderful to just BE with family and deepen your connections by sharing your philosophies.
We buried my husband in the morning and in the evening his sister and I left for 3 weeks in the UK. We had planned the trip for months before he passed away. We only thought about canceling it for a minute. The funny thing was, we both thought we would spend time talking about him, “processing our grief”, but we didn’t. We used the time to relax and decompress. I knew it would all hit like a sledge hammer as soon as I got back, but traveling gave us time to prepare for whatever came next.
It sounds like that trip was exactly what you needed, space to breathe. I imagine the change of scenery offered a kind of soft landing. How has it been since you got back?
It was seven years ago. There were a few months between his death and the funeral which I barely remember. I got back from England feeling like I might actually survive. My life has moved forward, even if it wasn’t the life I thought I’d have in my senior years.
I apologize for missing that detail, and I'm glad to hear that you are doing well now 💕.
Love everything about this whole piece. We are going to spend a month in the South of France for all these very reasons.
And yes, we need to talk about death to live more fully in the present. That’s what we write about at Pages By The Sea and also the reason I love reading your posts.
I would love to hear about your trip when you're back! I am considering the South of France for my honeymoon.
There's so much here I want to respond to (affirmatively), but I'll just share one especially profound realization I've had lately. My kids are three and seven. Before they fall asleep, each of them recently has shown interest in me telling them stories from my life, after we're done reading and the lights are off. I'm 40, but a dissproportionate number of my stories come from travels that I did almost 20 years ago. Moments that I experienced in Spain, Peru, India, Kenya are all engrained in my mind just as vividly as the layout of my late Grandma's house, or my own childhood home. We're shaped just as much by peak experiences as we are by the routines. I don't have a need to travel the way I used to, but I'm so grateful that I did when I. It's the interplay, and the integration of rhythm and disruption that's most profound.
I don’t have children, but I’ve noticed something similar. Many of my favorite stories originate from my travels. Not just the places, but the versions of myself and the people I met while I was there. I imagine how sweet it’ll be when your kids grow up, set out on their own, and come back with stories to tell you. What a beautiful cycle to be part of.
"grateful that I did when I *did."
I love u ✌️🌲