In July 2024, I lost my dad. At just 67, his life was cut short by cancer and an aortic aneurysm. It was a journey no one could have prepared for, and the grief has been overwhelming. But through it all, my experience as a solo traveller over the past 8 years has helped me find a path forward. Travel, for me, has become a form of healing, a way to reflect, and a tool for moving through grief with intention.
In January 2024, Dad was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s lymphoma. The diagnosis hit hard, and after months of chemotherapy, we were told in June that he had just weeks to live. The shock was unbearable, but my brother and I immediately took time off to bring Dad home, making sure his final days were as comfortable as possible. We shifted our lives into caretaker mode, staying by his side, trying to make each moment count.
But the last few days were far from peaceful. The palliative care he received dulled his pain but also left him disoriented and distant. Watching my dad go through this, seeing him struggle with fear and hallucinations, is something I’ll never forget. Those days were filled with exhaustion, love, and anguish, and I began to realise that grief would not be an easy companion.
After Dad passed, I found myself needing to get away—to take a break from the grief that had consumed me. Within a month, I travelled. Not to escape, but to heal. As a solo traveller, I’d spent years exploring the world, and travel had always given me a sense of freedom and peace. Now, it gave me something different: a space to breathe, to reflect, and to find clarity in the chaos of grief.
Travel has taught me lessons I needed in this difficult time. It gave me the opportunity to be alone with my thoughts while surrounded by new places, new faces, and fresh experiences. The stillness of the mountains, the serenity of the sea, and the quiet moments in new cities all allowed me to process my emotions in ways that were not possible at home, where memories of Dad lingered in every corner.
Through travel, I’ve found that grief isn’t something you can run from—it’s something you need to navigate. And in doing so, I’ve learned to give myself permission to feel everything: the sorrow, the anger, the guilt, but also the joy and freedom that travel brings.
Travel has also reshaped my understanding of what’s truly important. Before Dad’s death, I had big plans to move abroad and start fresh in a new country. His passing shifted that perspective. I realised that life is too short to wait for the "perfect time" or to live for anyone else’s expectations. Losing Dad—seeing how he never got the chance to enjoy retirement or live out his dreams—has taught me that the time to live fully is now.
I’ve come to understand that living boldly isn’t just about chasing new destinations; it’s about pursuing the things that matter most to you in life, whether that’s travel, creativity, or personal growth. It’s about choosing joy even when it feels hard and finding new meaning in your journey, no matter where you are.
Throughout all of this, I’ve also reflected on my mum’s incredible strength. For five years before Dad’s cancer diagnosis, he had lived with the aftermath of a stroke. During that time, my mum became his full-time carer, giving up her own career and dreams to care for him without recognition. Her sacrifices were vast and often invisible, and I want to honour her for everything she did, often without asking for anything in return.
Caregiving is a labour of love, and while travel has offered me healing, I recognise that many caregivers, like my mum, need just as much support. They are the unsung heroes in many families, and their emotional and physical toll deserves more recognition.
Grief is an unpredictable companion. Some days, I feel like I’m moving forward, finding my feet again. Other days, it’s overwhelming. The emotional highs and lows can be intense. As I’ve travelled, I’ve learned that healing isn’t linear. It’s okay to have days where I’m not okay, to let myself feel the weight of the sadness, and to take my time.
For me, travel has become an outlet for the pain, a way to express myself and find the space to just be. It has taught me that it’s okay to feel all of the emotions, even when they don’t make sense.
Travelling after losing Dad hasn’t just been about seeking escape—it’s been about rebuilding my sense of self. There’s a certain freedom in travel that allows me to reconnect with who I am beyond the grief and the roles I’ve taken on. Whether it’s hiking in new landscapes, experiencing different cultures, or simply sitting in solitude in a foreign city, travel has reminded me of my own resilience and strength.
It’s also reminded me that life is fragile and unpredictable. Before Dad’s death, I had dreams and goals—many of them focused around travel. Now, I understand that I need to live fully, not just for the future but for today. The world is big, and time is precious. We are not guaranteed tomorrow, and we should make the most of every moment we have.
As I continue my solo travels, I carry my dad’s memory with me. His life, his struggles, and his love continue to shape who I am and how I approach the world. Travel has become a way for me to honour him, to live in a way that honours the lessons he taught me about resilience, love, and the importance of following your own path.
In closing, I want to share this: Life is fleeting. Take the trips you’ve been dreaming of, take the time to heal, and don’t let anyone make you feel guilty for finding joy in the midst of pain. Grief changes you, but it also teaches you what really matters. You are not alone in this journey, and wherever you are—whether at home or on the road—know that it’s okay to live boldly and to find healing in unexpected places.
Комментарии