How grief, preparation, and fresh adventures helped me rediscover courage after loss
Travel has been part of my heart since high school, when a trip to New Mexico with friends first awakened my love of exploring new places. I was fortunate that my husband, Gene, shared that same sense of adventure. It took us a few years after we married to make travel possible, but once we could, those journeys became some of our most treasured times together.
The year Gene passed away, we had two trips planned: a three-week stay in Hawaii and a trip to Oklahoma to see a musical. We had already bought the tickets.
Losing Gene meant losing not only my husband but also my best travel partner. I had to decide whether to let go of the plans we had made and the money we had already spent, or to face those journeys without him. Travel could never feel the same. Gene brought laughter to every trip, noticed things I might have missed, and found humor in nearly every situation we encountered.
I could remain in the quiet, empty house and simply endure each day, or take the trips we had planned and carry Gene with me in spirit. I knew he would want me to keep living and rediscover joy, so I chose to go.
Those trips took place in 2022 and 2023. Since then, I have traveled to Europe twice and to Alaska. Each journey has been different without Gene, but traveling has helped me move forward while keeping our adventures close to my heart.
Today's technology makes translation, navigation, and communication much easier while traveling. Before each trip, I confirm that my translation app works properly and download any needed languages for offline use. I also check my navigation apps, save important addresses, and keep my phone charged so I can ask for help, find my way, and communicate with greater confidence. I also contact my mobile carrier to arrange an international plan that supports calls, texts, email, and data without incurring unexpected charges when I return home.
Losing a loved one leaves an empty place in the heart that no one else can fill, because the love shared with that unique person shaped it. I still feel Gene's absence in quiet moments, but I also feel the warmth of the life we built whenever I return to the people, places, and traditions we loved together. Staying active in our congregation keeps me surrounded by familiar faces and memories of the years we worshiped side by side. I also work to keep our family time steady and meaningful by gathering around the table, sharing stories, and holding the bonds that mattered so deeply to us close. Through these moments, Gene's presence continues to echo in my life, gently reminding me that love does not end when someone is gone.
Continuing to travel and feeling fortunate enough to plan each new journey have become an important part of my healing and personal growth. Choosing a destination, studying the route, and marking the departure date on my calendar give shape and purpose to the months ahead. I now take full responsibility for every detail, from comparing and booking flights to arranging lodging and coordinating air and motorcoach schedules.
I keep confirmation numbers, departure times, terminal information, and hotel addresses organized so that each connection fits together. Taking charge of these arrangements once felt overwhelming because Gene and I had shared the planning, but technology has given me another source of confidence. Knowing that my translation and navigation apps are ready helps me feel prepared to communicate, find my way, and handle unfamiliar situations on my own. Each time I use these tools successfully, I become less anxious about the unknown and more willing to trust my judgment. Completing these arrangements on my own has shown me that I am capable and resourceful.
When travel plans go awry, I pause, take a few slow breaths, and focus on the most urgent need. I move to a safe, well-lit place, check the facts, and write the next two or three steps. Speaking slowly and clearly helps me ask airline staff, hotel employees, drivers, or local authorities for assistance. If I feel overwhelmed, I call a trusted family member, drink some water, and give myself a moment to regain perspective.
Before each trip, I prepare by keeping paper and digital copies of my passport, identification, insurance information, prescriptions, reservations, and emergency contacts. I pack essential medications, a phone charger or power bank, local currency, and a change of clothing in my carry-on bag. I also share my itinerary with a trusted family member, save important contact information on my phone, keep valuables in separate secure places, and check travel alerts, weather, and transportation updates. These preparations help me replace fear with a sense of control and make thoughtful decisions when plans suddenly change.
Travel has taught me how to respond when an inconvenience becomes an emergency. If I become ill, I find the nearest clinic or pharmacy, contact my travel insurer, and keep my medical information handy. When my luggage is lost, I file a report, save the tracking details, and buy only essentials until the airline returns it. A lost passport or wallet requires me to secure my accounts, contact the appropriate embassy or authorities, and revise my plans step by step.
Air travel presents its own challenges. When a delay causes me to miss a connection, I check the airline app and departure board, speak with an agent about rebooking, and notify the hotel that I may arrive late. If the original shuttle or motor coach is no longer available, I arrange an Uber, confirm the driver and destination, and make my way safely to my lodging. During long waits, I find a quiet place to regroup, charge my phone, and review the updated itinerary.
Traveling abroad may also require me to ask for directions, read unfamiliar signs, or shop when neither person speaks the other's language fluently. I compare prices, use gestures or translation tools, and make sure I understand the currency and the purchase. Each illness, lost item, missed flight, changed ride, or language barrier I manage teaches me to remain calm, ask for help, and adapt. What once might have made me turn to Gene for reassurance has become an opportunity to trust my judgment and recognize how capable I have become.
The anticipation of a trip lifts me through difficult days and reminds me that life still holds beauty, discovery, and joy. Traveling without Gene is difficult; I still want to turn to him to share a view, laugh at an unexpected mishap, or talk about what I have just seen. In those moments, grief and gratitude travel side by side.
Yet every reservation I make, every schedule I manage, and every disruption I overcome becomes part of my healing. Courage does not require the absence of fear or sadness; it allows me to continue even when both are present. With each journey, I grow more independent, patient, and open to new experiences and friendships. I am not leaving Gene behind. I am carrying his humor, curiosity, and adventurous spirit into the person I am becoming, honoring the life we shared with resilience, hope, and self-reliance.
Travel does not erase grief, but it can create room for courage, connection, and hope.
Copyright © Jo Ann Hamil 2026 All Rights Reserved
