Happy Trails
on traveling, and being grateful for the places he took me
There’s a picture of him in Memphis. He’s sitting at a table in Blues City Cafe in Memphis, staring off into the distance. We had just walked around the city for more than an hour and we were tired and hungry. The cafe served us well. I think about this picture a lot; it’s one of hundreds I’ve taken on vacation with him but I specifically remember this one because while we were tired, we were content. It was a nice vacation, full of laughter and smiles and the feeling like we were going to feel good forever.
I’ve been thinking about all the good parts of our relationship instead of dwelling on the last year and the end. I’m grateful for all the good times we had, especially our travels. Before I met Todd I hadn’t traveled anywhere except to Florida to go to Disney with my kids and a few trips to Canada to see some hockey games. I hadn’t really seen anything on those trips, they were confined and narrow and had a single purpose. The thing is, I never had the urge to travel; I hated flying and I liked being home. That all changed when I met him.
Our first trip together was sort of local. We drove to Pennsylvania and stayed at a hotel on Camelback Mountain. We spent the weekend eating at local restaurants, exploring the area, and just being together somewhere that wasn’t home. It was serene and lovely and I felt lucky to alive.
There were many trips to California, his home state. We often went to Sacramento, where his parents lived, and would make side trips to either the Bay Area or Tahoe. I got over my fear of flying pretty quick and part of the reason was he always made me feel safe and taken care of. I had the best birthday of my life in Lake Tahoe and I remember specifically driving through the mountains feeling like life was perfect and I would always be that happy. Happiness was a foreign concept to me before Todd; he brought such joy to my life in the time we were together and I will always be thankful to him for that. The walks through San Francisco’s rolling streets, the weekend at a quirky hotel in Monterey, the breakfasts in Truckee, the State Fair in Sacramento - I did more with him in a few years than I’d done my whole life. He opened up whole new worlds for me, and was always patient as I lugged my camera around and stopped every ten feet to take pictures.
We went to Chicago three times and he stood by while I met a bunch of internet friends there. We explored the city, got lost at one point and walked for two hours, ate some fantastic food. And the whole time I felt fortunate to live that life, to be given a second chance at happiness. Traveling allowed me freedom, it allowed me to meet people and see new places and experience things I couldn’t get being stuck on Long Island. I never took it for granted; it felt special every single time we went somewhere.
We went to Barcelona and that was the first time I’d been in another country besides Canada. It was a glorious trip and we acted like newlyweds on a honeymoon the whole time, just giddy at being in another country, especially one so beautiful and thriving. We had the best paella of our lives, we sipped coffee at cafes at 3am, we walked and walked and took an intense taxi ride. We did all the touristy things, but not enough touristy things because we went back two years later to see and do all the things we missed the first time around. I felt so complete, so content, that I kept thanking him for providing me with this opportunity. I felt absolute happiness.
We had this amazing weekend in Los Angeles and Anaheim, running through Disneyland like two little kids, riding all the attractions, feeling free from work and everyday life. We held hands everywhere we went, we spent the days with smiles on our faces and I wanted to bottle up every feeling I had that weekend and take it home with me and bask in it forever.
I never felt so good, so happy as when I was traveling with him. Seeing the country, the world, feeling so grateful for having a partner who wanted me to see these things with him, to experience that joy, I am so grateful for that. These are the things I want to remember. Not the silence of our last year together, not the day he left me, not the times we felt unhappy. I want to always remember the fun, the excursions, the way he wanted me to feel happy and fulfilled.
There were times in the last year when I couldn’t look at all the photos of us together, of our travels together. It was painful to think of all the happiness we had that was no longer ours. But enough time has passed where I think I’m getting around that. We had fifteen years together and a lot of that was good. I grew, I learned, I found an inner peace and happiness that had eluded me my whole life. I want to be grateful for all that. I want to be thankful. The circumstances surrounding the end of our relationship still haunt me, but I have to not forget that I lived a dream of a life for a while. It makes moving on a lot easier, and it’s just better for my heart.
I’ll eventually travel again. I’d love to go to Iceland with my daughter, to Atlanta to visit my best friend, upstate for a peaceful respite, back to Barcelona because it’s my favorite place. I don’t think I’ll ever go back to Sacramento or Tahoe; the memories there would be too painful. But I will travel. I will find that happiness out on the road again. It doesn’t have to be with him, but I know the path he laid out for me led me to wanting to do more than sit tight on Long Island for the rest of my life, and I’ll be thankful for that forever.
