London: Grief Has a Passport
The day I arrived in London, I was carrying far more than a suitcase.
Three months earlier, my dad had unexpectedly passed away, and grief had been my entire existence. When the time came to leave for my month-long London study abroad, I didn’t want to go. The idea of being so far away from everyone I loved when I was in such a fragile state didn’t seem possible. I also felt guilty leaving my family in the depths of grief while I had the time of my life in a new country. The only thing that got me on that plane was the hope and curiosity I felt when I looked into the future.
When I landed in London, I quickly learned grief can follow you around the world. I cried trying to find the Tube, looking like a lost, spoiled American with an excessively large suitcase. When I finally found my way, I felt overwhelmed and out of my element. The long ride to my dorm gave me time to think about what I was truly about to do. Stepping out of the dark, crowded Tube into the fresh air and cobblestone streets, I felt curious about what would come next.
I was lucky enough to already know a few people in my program and quickly met many more. I found comfort in knowing that they were miles out of their comfort zone as well. The first day was a jet-lagged blur. We sat through an extremely long orientation, half-listening to lectures about the program. Our program focused on public relations and advertising, with classes a few days each week. Most of our learning happened outside of the classroom through site visits, city exploration, and learning how to live in an unfamiliar place.
Throughout the next four weeks, London slowly began bringing me back to life.
We saw every tourist attraction you could possibly think of, with my favorites being Borough Market, Hampton Court Palace, the Queen’s Walk, and the Notting Hill neighborhood. Every landmark and area was more beautiful than the next and you could practically feel the history seeping through the walls.
On some weekends, we traveled outside of the city. We went to Brighton and Bath, discovering that London isn’t the only place in the UK with charm and history.
Bath took my breath away. Parts of the show Bridgerton were filmed there, and if you know how beautiful those sets are you can imagine how amazing it was in person. I remember thinking it was the kind of place I dreamed of living someday.
Later that month, we took a class weekend trip to Edinburgh. That weekend meant more to me than I ever expected.
Scotland was somewhere my dad dreamed of traveling for his 60th birthday. He died when he was 56, just missing his chance to go. Being there without him was painful and it reminded me of the hardest parts of my grief. Unfortunately, grief doesn’t just disappear with happiness. It constantly lingers and somehow grief and happiness can exist side by side. I was grateful for the trip but I wished more than anything that he could be there with me.
As the final week approached, I wasn’t ready to leave. London gave me my life back. I experienced joy, laughter, excitement, and freedom to its fullest for the first time in months. My family arrived in London at the end of the program before we continued to France together. Although I was excited for what was to come, I knew my goodbye to London and all I experienced would be hard.
London gave me happiness at a time I thought happiness might be gone for good. It was hard to balance the guilt of experiencing life when someone so important wasn’t there to hear about it, but I learned that my dad was with me the whole time.
During the last week of the program, I was walking home from dinner with friends when a pedicab drove by blasting “Born in the U.S.A.” by Bruce Springsteen. My dad loved Bruce Springsteen. His music holds a sacred place in my heart and it will always feel tied to him. I immediately burst into tears on the street. Some people might call that a coincidence, but I don’t. In that moment my dad was with me, reminding me that although grief follows you throughout the world, so does love.
I haven’t been back to London since that summer, but I know I will return someday with gratitude for everything it taught me. These are my biggest takeaways from this trip I hope anyone going through a similar situation can understand:
Joy and grief can coexist. Feeling happiness after loss isn’t wrong, it’s a part of healing.
Moving forward isn’t the same as leaving someone behind. The world keeps moving whether we’re ready or not.
The people we love most would want us to live every day to the fullest and see the world.
Since that trip, I’ve traveled a lot, and I still carry his memory with me. Although healing looks different for everyone, travel gives me hope and a reason to keep going.