In the summer of 2005, all hell broke loose. My healthy, happy 58-year-old stepmom had a stroke. Two weeks later she was gone. To say we were caught off-guard would be the understatement of the century. Then my marriage imploded.
My family’s reaction was to circle the wagons. We rented two apartments in a lovely complex in our gorgeous college town- my mom, my son, and I in one; and my father, my sister, and my niece in another. Then we breathed. And worked on healing.
Dad and I started working out in the complex gym, watching travel shows while we pumped iron, and walking miles in the city park. Slowly, a plan bubbled to the surface.
We would get our ducks in a row, save as much money as we could, and start traveling. The plan changed over time, as they do, but the original idea was: a short Mexico tour in year one (about a month), a longer Mexico stay in year two (two cities, a month in each), then if we love traveling together, head to Europe on an open-ended tour.
This blog will be the story of how my father- a retired public health nurse, myself- a single mom & artist with a gardening business, and my son- five years old when we started, would tackle the ups and downs of this adventure.
The obvious place to start would be the beginning, so Mexico in our case, but we have friends heading off to Morocco in a few months, who want the particulars of our journey, and the lessons learned. And another pal wants to travel with her young son, homeschooling, as I did. So we’ll start our story in Morocco, the first stop on our jump over the pond.