A Piece of My Journey, for @jamield

I didn’t know @jamield other than the occasional overlap on Tumblr.

I’ve spent some time looking over her Tumblr especially, and thought that perhaps she would have enjoyed this story.

The story starts nine years ago, early spring of 2000. I can’t tell you exactly when but it was after February 1st and before April 15th. My sister and her family were living in Scotland, and my wife and I were trying to decide if we were going to go for a visit.

We couldn’t afford it. There was no way we could afford it. But we had tickets on 48-hour hold with a travel agent. The final hours were running out and we had to call her back to say either yay or nay.

“We have to go. It will never be less expensive than it will be now. If we pay for airline tickets, we’ll have a place to stay.”

There was another reason as well.

I know it was after February 1st because that was the day that our first pregnancy ended, prematurely, at 22 weeks. The dates of travel that we had tentatively scheduled would have us out of the country for what had been the due date in the early days of summer.

“Avoidance” gets a bad rap, but you know, some days it really is the best available option.

We both wanted to be gone, and we both knew it was, financially, a horrible decision. I can’t remember which one of us finally said it:

“We’re going.”

I called the travel agent and left a message telling her that we wanted the tickets. No sooner had I hung up the phone than I felt a pit in my stomach, and yet relief. My only real concern was that the travel agent would get the message before the tickets expired.

The phone rang. “That must be her!” I thought.

It wasn’t.

It was our accountant.

Now before you get your undergarments in a bunch, “Ooooooh, Mr. Fancy Pants has an accountant?” I won’t explain, but trust me, it’s a requirement. My dad was an accountant for 33 years and even he declined to try to tackle our taxes.

He said, “I have good news and bad news.”

(Aside: if you are a doctor, a mechanic, or an accountant, never start a conversation with that sentence. Ever.)

Perhaps he heard me begin to hyperventilate, because he continued: “The bad news is that you are having way too much withheld from your paycheck. The good news is that you’re getting [dollar amount almost identical to the cost of the airline tickets] back from your tax return. I’ll send you the paperwork, you ought to have the money in a few weeks.”

It was the first time in days? weeks? month? that I remember feeling anything might resemble “joy”… or maybe “hope”… or maybe it wasn’t even that much—maybe it was just a deeper and truer smile in my soul.

The trip was everything we could have hoped for. With the “extra” money we hadn’t expected, we took a few more trips while we where there to London and Dublin (short flights from Glasgow). We ate wonderful food and took in all the sights our eyes and feet could manage.

The Journey Isn’t Just About Where You Go, But How You Get There

Not that there isn’t plenty to see in the USA, of course. A few years later we took our son to the west coast. We went to California, Oregan, and Washington. We stayed with friends we had never met in real life before, but who we had known via email. They opened their houses and their lives to us. It was a trip we’ll never forget.

Jamie clearly “got” this. She obviously loved to travel, but more than that you can sense the adventure in her words, it was how she approached life. I daresay she lived a lot more life than some people who get twice as many years.

Today was a good day to grieve for her. For her close friends and especially family, I know that grief will only grow in the days to come before the eventual ebb and flow returns. But eventually everyone who was touched by her life will honor her memory more by how they choose to life.

If you can get on a plane, go for it. If the trip requires a passport, all the better. If you have a car, find a new place to take it. If you have a bike, find some new hills or a different path.

If all you have is where you live and your own two feet, take the spirit of adventure and let it show you things that your eyes have taken for granted.

Add some life to your life. She’d love that.

Finally, just let me add a word of thanks for everyone who has shared a bit of themselves after this loss. I didn’t know her, I wish I had, but it’s been remarkable to see and hear what her circle of friends have had to say about her. I wish you all peace and comfort in the midst of your grief.