Traveling Through Grief (and TSA): Solo Mom Life, Healing, and Blended Family Adventures
This summer, I did something I had never done before. I boarded a plane to Michigan with my two oldest children, only…
This summer, I did something I had never done before. I boarded a plane to Michigan with my two oldest children, only to return home without them.
Letting them stay for a couple of weeks with their dad’s side of the family was emotional in ways I didn’t expect. Not because I didn’t trust his family, but because it was the first time I intentionally created space for them to build a relationship with a part of him they don’t see every day.
Their dad is gone, but his family is still here. And I want them to know those roots. To hear the stories that existed before the hospital beds and the heartbreak. To feel that they are deeply connected to where they came from.
And honestly? It gave them a closeness that I know they will carry forever.
Grief Doesn’t Stay Behind, It Travels With You
Getting on that plane without them was one of those grief moments no one prepares you for.
I held it together as I kissed them goodbye, as my daughter cried in my arms, and as I watched them disappear into the comfort of familiarity…grandparents, cousins, and stories of their dad.
But then, on the plane ride home, the tears came. Because grief does that. It shows up in unexpected spaces: at the airport gate, in the empty row of seats where little hands used to be, or in the silence of a flight where no one whispers, “Mom, are we almost there?”
And yet, I knew in my heart this was good for them. Healing sometimes looks like separation. It looks like laughter at a table filled with cousins. It looks like hearing stories about their dad sneaking them candy before dinner.
Grief came with me. But so did gratitude.
While They Were There, We Found Joy Elsewhere
Back home, I still had our youngest, my three-year-old, right by my side. And instead of staying stuck in the silence, we created our own adventure.
Me, my little travel buddy, my mom, and my cousin boarded a cruise ship headed to Cozumel and Progreso, Mexico.
We danced on the lido deck.
We ate too many desserts.
We laughed until our bellies hurt.
For a few days, we simply existed in joy. It didn’t erase the grief, it never does, but it balanced it. Sunlight, ocean breezes, and small moments reminded me:
You got this, La. You’re going to be okay.
That’s what healing in motion looks like.
Next Stop, New York City
Just when I thought the summer had already stretched me in new ways, I said yes to another adventure: New York City.
My cousin and I took on The Big Apple for the first time together. Another “first.” Another chapter I never imagined writing without my late husband beside me.
Walking through Times Square, eating late-night pizza, crossing bridges, it was bittersweet. Because grief has a way of whispering: He should be here.
But healing has its own reply: You’re still here. Keep going.
And so, I carried him with me through every street corner and skyscraper view. Because love doesn’t end when life does, it just travels differently now.
Solo Flights, Mama Missions, and Blended Memories
This summer was a whirlwind of solo parenting, letting go, holding on, and carving out space for what’s new.
I’ve learned that healing doesn’t just happen in stillness. It happens in motion…on planes, on cruise ships, and on sidewalks in unfamiliar cities.
Grief comes with us. But so does growth.
So does laughter.
So does new love.
That’s the blended reality of life after loss. My children are learning that they can hold onto their dad’s legacy and make new memories with the people who show up now. I’m learning that I can cry in one moment and laugh in the next…and neither cancels the other out.
For the Mama Holding Grief in One Hand and Boarding Passes in the Other
If you’ve ever packed suitcases while your heart still felt too heavy to lift, this part is for you:
•You’re allowed to cry in the terminal and smile in the sunshine.
•You’re allowed to make new memories without guilt.
•You’re allowed to want your children to know all sides of their family.
•You’re allowed to build a beautiful life, even if the beginning of your story was filled with loss.
Traveling through grief isn’t about escaping it. It’s about carrying it with you and realizing joy can still find you along the way.
Practical Tips for Traveling Through Grief
Because sometimes encouragement needs action steps, here are a few tools that helped me:
1. Give Yourself Permission
You don’t need to travel with perfection. Pack grace before you pack anything else. If you cry mid-flight, that’s okay. If you laugh at dinner, that’s okay too. Both are healing.
2. Build Flexibility Into Your Schedule
Traveling with grief (and kids!) means energy levels can shift quickly. Build in buffer days. Allow naps. Leave room for quiet moments.
3. Create Small Rituals to Stay Connected
Whether it’s writing a postcard “to dad,” wearing something that honors him, or sharing stories before bedtime…rituals anchor the trip in love.
4. Lean on Support Systems
Invite family, friends, or a partner into the journey. Let them carry some of the weight so you don’t have to do it alone.
5. Start Small if It Feels Overwhelming
If the idea of a big trip feels too heavy, start with one night away. A short drive. A walk down a new street. Healing doesn’t require distance, it requires intention.
Resources for Grieving Parents Who Travel
• National Alliance for Children’s Grief – Support for families navigating loss.
•Modern Loss – Real-life stories and tools for living with grief.
•Option B – Community and resources for resilience after hardship.
•The Dougy Center – A safe space for grieving children and families.
•Widowed Parent Podcast – Conversations about raising kids after loss.
These aren’t just links. They’re lifelines for parents balancing the ache of grief with the beauty of new memories.
Final Word...Still Grieving. Still Going.
This summer wasn’t about escaping grief. It was about living through it…eyes open, heart open.
It was about trusting my kids with their story and trusting myself with mine. It was about choosing to let them deepen their connection to their father’s family while also choosing joy and new experiences with the family who remains.
Whether it’s a plane to Michigan, a ship to Mexico, or a trip to New York City…we’re still going.
Still grieving.
Still becoming.
And that, my love, is the bravest kind of journey there is.
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