We still travel. Clea died while we were travelling. We went on a holiday and she didn’t come back with us.
We still travel but it is not the same. Travelling has lost its spark for me. We travel for our sons so that they can experience the world in all its differences and so they can appreciate the life they have at home.
The problem is that everywhere we go, there is someone missing. We sit on an aeroplane and there is someone missing. We walk along a street and there is someone missing. We sit at a restaurant and there is someone missing.
I sit beside a pool watching my sons playing and there is a laugh and a giggle missing from the noises they make. I find it difficult to sit beside a pool as it always reminds me of a pool in Samoa where Clea laughed and giggled and called me ‘a loser’ for not catching the ball when she played Piggy in the Middle with her father, with me in the middle.
We are travelling now in Vietnam. We were hoping to avoid Christmas but everywhere they are trying to emulate the commercialisation and marketing that is found in so called Western societies. I’m not sure why they bother as the festivities are meaningless to the Vietnamese people; as they are quite meaningless to me.
I guess we will continue to travel because it is what we do. We will continue to travel without Clea. We will continue to notice the missing chair at the table and the missing hand holding ours. We have to learn to travel without Clea.