Organizing an around the world journey is both monstrous and exciting. After months of planning the trip of a life time a smile would break upon my face each time someone asked me about my plans for the coming year. Although I only brushed the surface with each person I came into contact with, I was unaware of how my departure would affect me.
Moving out and letting go of my own space in this world was not hard. My new apartment had always been a transitional place after the loss of my home in the California Wildfires of October ‘07. The time involved was what I found trying with so much to organize, but together my husband and I handled our own checklist of things to do, address changes, closing accounts, packing our belongs for storage, doctor visits, dinner parties to attend and a few moments on my own to stay sane.
It was during my last weekend in San Diego visiting my dad when I realized there is another side to my adventure, the goodbye. The warmth of the spring sun lit up the blue sky while fragrant fruit blossoms drifted along the pacific breeze, it was this afternoon that I would say goodbye to my dad. He is an old boy with a tough sense of humor, a real cowboy in the making living life in Levi’s with never a tear to shed. My father, a creature of habit, enjoys daily lunch at his favorite Mexican restaurant in town. Referred to by my family as the ‘Old El Nopal’ as no one can remember the new name, just the old, and nor did we care to know the new name. The three of us, my dad, husband and I sat at the usual table, together with salt crystals on the worn seats and fresh served hot carrots, sipping ice tea. I enjoyed the lunch, but deep inside I knew the coming hours would be difficult. It wasn’t like his only daughter was leaving or his only child but the reality that, I’d be the last one to leave. Only a month previously my sister and partner moved to Arkansas along with my younger brother to where my mom has now lived for the last ten years. My departure would leave my dad alone.
After lunch we spent some time in the back yard for idle chit chat avoiding the departure that must come. I felt mixed emotions, of course I knew I was doing the right thing, taking a chance to really live life (my opinion) but I was hurting people, the ones I loved the most, for what? My own selfish pleasures to travel the world and live life to the fullest! As my husband and I pulled out of the driveway leaving dust in our tracks, my dad said his final words of farewell, at the same time holding back the tears that would soon be rolling down his cheeks as I reached the end of the road. I felt my own eyes welling as I replayed those words over and over again, words that are still with me now.
The feelings inside are difficult to tap into from the displacement after the fires in California to the notion that the majority of my family members have recently moved to Arkansas, leaving very little in my home town of San Diego. Everything has been arranged as it should and the excitement had somehow been packed away with my belongings, I was in a state of confusion.
From San Diego we drove across the barren deserts and plains of the southwest to the green forests of the Ozarks in Arkansas, where we would be staying for a month. As time with family often does, the weeks raced past and our month had become a thing of the past. During the last week I had there with my family, I was feeling the weight of all the days I would be gone. On our departure day my mom drove us to the airport and we quietly reminisced about the passing month. I stared out the window watching cattle fields ebb the outskirts of new housing developments thinking of all the moments I wanted to cherish. Moments like playing smash ball in the front yard, surviving severe weather in Tornado Alley, horseback rides, dog walks, Terra Studios, lunch at the Taste of Thai and spending the weekend with a good friend. Such great memories I would be taking with me this time on departure. After checking in for my flight and heading towards the security check point we all knew what was to come, tears formed in my eyes when I met my Mom’s face. We hugged and said our goodbyes not looking back and on walking through security I was handed a tissue by airport personal.
Many, many hours later I began to feel stronger and fully accept the nature of what was, as it should be. We were on our way to Ireland and upon arrival into Dublin after a long wait at the bus stop I did cheer up having remembered what is to be this coming year. Now it was time to visit family in England and after time to freshen up in Dublin, we arrived more excited then ever to see my husband’s Mum and Dad waiting for us at the airport.
Traveling will no doubt entail many hellos and goodbyes from the passing moments of a generous local at a train station, a lively bartender at a beach-side cantina or fulfilling family reunions. There’s always the unavoidable bon voyage each traveler will have to encounter as they leave home. Saying farewell does not happen with ease, but the benefits to world travel far out way the difficulty of goodbye. After some time on the road many travelers accept they are far from home and the old way of life; and this can be addictive. It may come as a surprise to know just how adaptable you can become to a lifestyle on the road.
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