I Faced the Storm and it Healed Me

I am a widow. At 44 years old, with four kids to raise, I lost my husband suddenly and unexpectedly at the height of covid, April 2020. He didn’t die of covid, his demise came in the form of an aortic aneurysm.

While we had concerns about covid, as the rest of the world did, our concern was more for our parents than ourselves. We were happy to cocoon with our kids in our house. He worked, the kids did school online, I baked and kept up the house. We spent our evening playing board games and savored the forced slow down and extra time together. Little did I know just how precious that extra time was.

a beautiful spring morning when our world as we knew it shattered to pieces. In the span of 45 minutes I went from laughing, teasing wife to widow. During a worldwide pandemic where we were facing grave uncertainty as a society, I joined so many others who would grieve that year and face a distinctly more personal uncertainty. My future suddenly came to an unexpected halt.

I was fortunate to have been able to be a stay at home mom for 19 years. Our oldest had plans to head to college fall of 2020, our next son was preparing to graduate high school spring of 2021 and I had another in high school and the fourth in middle school. I loved that I could focus on being a wife and a mother. When Terry died, so did the woman who had been his wife.

I tell people I grieved like it was my job for the first three months. I knew it would be accepted and understood and so I allowed myself to lament and mourn with my entire being. Eventually, I knew I need to climb out of the deep dark pit of despair and figure out what I was going to do for the next chapter of my life. Figuring that out meant figuring out who I was and who I wanted to be.

I knew instinctively, that I would need to step out off my daily world and into a silent oasis where I could sit with my thoughts, feelings, fears, and dare I even hope - desires. I couldn’t do that in the noise of my daily life, with the needs of my kids and the constant beckon of things that needed to be accomplished in my home. So began my ventures as a solo traveler.

I stepped away from my life here, with the intention of finding the woman I needed to become.

The Beginning of Solo Travel

I planned my first trip to my favorite place in the world, Holden Beach N.C. While full of memories, it was also a familiar, safe, place of solace and comfort. The North Carolina shore is beautiful with its ever changing tides and wave action. Some days, the waves were quiet and still, and others they were large and raging, so familiar to the grief I was experiencing. As I planned this trip, I eventually invited a friend along, afraid of what I might face on my own. I chose someone who could respect my need at times to sit by myself, but was also available and safe to emotionally process with if needed.

I spent most of that trip sitting on the shore, just staring at the waves. Allowing their sound and steady motion the speak healing into my battered soul. The ocean spoke to me. The active waves mirrored back my rage, anger and confusion, the quiet days were like gentle hugs, slowing my hear rate and calming my mind. As I sat and learned to breathe again, I knew that like that ocean, I could keep moving.

I found reassurance that while there would be days I felt like I was drowning in the intensity of my grief, those waves would assuredly settle down. I knew eventually, I would find solid footing, fresh air, and new energy and purpose. I was able to go back home to my children and this uncertain life and begin to make plans, take baby steps and rebuild into the woman I’m meant to become.

My next trip was entirely solo. The first trip gave me to assurance that not only could I travel, I would probably really enjoy the time on my own. I wasn’t afraid of myself and my thoughts anymore, and in fact, I rather like me. So I headed off to a new place this time, Sanibel Island, Florida. I found a cute studio apt through a travel app just a few hundred yards from the beach.

As my travel departure approached, warnings began to go up about a brewing storm in the Atlantic. This storm would eventually turn into a Category 1 Hurricane. Strangely this actually excited me. I’d never experienced a hurricane before, and I knew Category 1, while intense, wasn’t likely going to cause mass damage or evacuations. My greatest concern was simply getting there before the storm. I did arrive in plenty of time and had a beautiful day/evening my first day there before the storm came in.

The next day the storm began to make its way to shore. Hurricane Elizabeth began simply as wind and rain, so I too found my way to the shore. I turned and I faced that glorious and exhilarating storm and thought was a metaphor for life right now. The storm was raging around me and I could hide and cower before it, or I could stand up and face it. So I stood against the gusts that battered me, and let the rain droplets pelt my skin, and in those moments I knew I would survive this horrible thing that has happened to me. The storm in my heart would calm and I would indeed find light in my life again as the clouds moved away.

Healing in Solitude

During those few rainy stormy days, I found more pieces of myself. I cried, I wrote, I prayed, I sang and I danced again. I reminded myself of what joy felt like and I allowed it to come back into my life. That storm brought deep healing to my soul.

I ended up taking a short trip somewhere every 3-4 months for the first 18 months of my widowhood. Each place offered a little more healing, each trip gave me a little more inner strength and resilience, and I continued to learn more about myself with every experience.

My last trip to date, was a venture to New York City. I’ve always wanted to visit and I’m a huge fan of Broadway musicals. I brought my youngest along with me, and I was more than a little anxious about this venture. I don’t live in a big city, so I wasn’t feeling super confident about getting us around, finding where we need to go, and of course worried about being safe. We flew in and quickly found a cab, which took us to our hotel directly off Time Square.

Can I just tell you we had the best time???

The city truly was incredible. Everything went smoothly and we walked all over the city! We were able to get last minute tickets to a few shows, visited fabulous restaurants and experienced a diversity of people and cultures that was exhilarating.

On our last full day we spent the majority of our time exploring Central Park. As we walked we saw a hawk (which is our sign from Terry that he’s with us). My kid laughed and said “Of course this is where he’d find us. It’s the only place he’d enjoy here.” and it was true. He was not a city guy at all. He was at home amongst the trees and wildlife of the forests.

As we walked I had an incredible peace settle upon me, and I realized I had done it. I traveled my way to healing. I can walk in confidence of doing really hard and scary things, and I come out stronger and more resilient for having done them. I took myself and my kid to the largest city in the country and we successfully navigated it and had a wonderful time!

I’m hoping to venture oversees soon. One of the things that excites me and gives me some confidence to head oversees is Tess Millhollon’s HerHouse App. This app aims to connect women with other women travelers and safe spaces to stay. I may even choose my next trip simply based on the opportunity to meet and stay with new friends through the app!

It’s ironic that in the midst of a world-wide pandemic, I have actually traveled more in the last two years than I have in my lifetime. Do I still have healing to do? Absolutely. But I don’t have to be afraid of it, and I know that taking steps outside of my comfort zone, aid in that process.

Every trip has given me back a little more of myself. It’s allowed personal introspection and growth that no other activity in life is able to do for me. I miss my husband like nothing else. My grief is still there, at times raging, other times just a quiet whisper, but I’ve learned how to live with the juxtaposition of grief and joy. I’m grateful I’ve had the means, and support from friends and family to take this time and these opportunities, and I look forward to more adventures that add growth, perspective, and yes, hope, in this life I was unwillingly thrust into just over two years ago.

Diane is a Founding Member of HerHouse and we are honored that she wanted to share her story of healing solo travel with us. You can follow more of Diane’s work on her blog: People Are More Important.