“may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.” e.e. cummings
Travel takes me outside myself. That’s been a welcome relief seven months after Eddie’s death. To say I’ve been focused on myself since October 3rd would be an understatement. That’s not a bad thing. I’ve learned it’s survival thing. I’ve had to wrestle with many changes, like managing my finances on my own, cooking and eating dinner every night on my own, parenting and grandparenting on my own, figuring out an endless array of IT issues on my own, running my business on my own, caring for Charlie on my own, sleeping alone, living alone. I’ve been hacked and audited on top of everything else.
While issues such as these won’t magically get easier just because I’ve been in Italy for nearly a month, focusing my energy elsewhere for a while has provided some healing… probably in ways I’ve yet to fully understand.
Traveling abroad requires a certain amount of confidence, resourcefulness, trust in yourself and others, curiosity, an interest in trying new things, the ability to communicate with others and a willingness to take risks every now and then. Eddie’s death knocked me down hard; getting back up requires, to a certain extent, some of these very same things. Now that I’ve had a little time to practice (without the usual distractions and discomforts), perhaps I can bring some of these travel skills home with me. Maybe that will make it easier for me to be in the world again.
Or maybe it’ll just make it easier to be alone.
Either way, I’ll be grateful for whatever helps move me forward. (I’m not planning to move on, simply to move forward.)
My trusted camera once again found ways to help. Whether we were investigating the stunning landscapes of Tuscany or making meditative still lifes of flowers on the Amalfi Coast, I found comfort in knowing that photography would help me navigate the places I visited and the feelings I had about them. Where my camera really shined was on the street. She provided, as she has time and time again, an entry in other peoples’ lives, an easy way to strike up conversations with strangers, a key to open doors, and a vehicle for helping me enhance my understanding of the people around me. Not to mention a way to give gifts to others: the gift of being seen and the gift of receiving digital files in some cases.
I missed Eddie with every new town, every gorgeous sunset, every delicious gelato, every great meal, every beautiful walk, every comfortable park bench and every delightful new person I met. I did get a few signs from him along the way, though, so I know he was “traveling” alongside me in his own way.
In the spirit of photographers like Robert Doisneau, Edouard Boubat and Eliott Erwitt, I found joy in exploring the streets, seeking the wide range of emotions on display. Just like life itself, there is joy and sadness, and I reveled in discovering and exploring both.
A big shout out to my beloved sister who traveled with me for the last 12 days of my journey. We make excellent travel mates in every way. She gave me room to feel and express my own joy and sadness. And, as usual, we laughed a whole lot.
