Time stopped the day my son died unexpectedly when he was a toddler. My life was forever divided into two eras: Before and After.
This blog was born from the encouragement of a dear friend who reminded me that I have a story worth sharing—a perspective that might help someone, maybe you, who is just trying to get out of bed after losing a child. I write in the hope that my words might offer you comfort, and also in the hope that the writing itself might bring me healing.
I’m a middle-aged mom, slowly re-discovering who I am in this “After” chapter of life. I’m learning how to carry the weight of child loss while also seeking moments of joy, connection, and purpose—especially through travel.
Travel wasn’t something I expected to become part of my healing, but it did. Planning trips gave me structure when everything felt chaotic. It offered me small doses of peace in the midst of pain. It reminded me there were still sunrises to greet, open roads to wander, and new cultures to explore—even when joy felt impossibly far away.
Here, I share my journey not as an expert, but as a mother navigating life with grief while still choosing to explore the world—messy moments and all. I write about how travel can be a form of healing, how planning can bring calm in the storm, and how I carry my son’s memory with me wherever I go.
Through this space, I hope to give you travel tips that make exploring the world more affordable, approachable, and deeply meaningful—whether you’re traveling with lifelong friends, extended family, or your own small crew. I’ve learned that travel can be more than an escape; it can be a path to healing, reconnection, and rediscovery.
I also hope to share tools, reflections, and encouragement for your own grief journey—plus a few laughs from my own mishaps along the way.
One constant companion since my son passed is a small, plastic toy of his favorite character—a little striped tiger you might recognize. It sits quietly in my pocket, reminding me that I am always Traveling with Daniel.
Thank you for being here.
