My grandma made me live mostly out of a back pack since 1996.
–––
I am not sure how my life of travel started. I guess I have always wanted to hit the open road, to see the world, to get out into the craziness of it all. Maybe it was discovering Woody Guthrie and his hobo lifestyle when I was around 12 years old. Maybe it was reading Jack Kerouac when I was about 14 that made me sense a world beyond the rural Oregon farmland. Maybe it was my introduction to punk rock in the early ’80s and all night talks with all those crusty traveler kids. Maybe it was learning that there is a difference between a tourist and a traveler. The tourist has a plan, a schedule, and knows when they will return. The traveler never knows whether they will return or not. That really made me think.
Maybe it was falling in love with the bigger than life character of Neil Cassidy that enthralled me with the idea of the all-purpose driver who delivers a constant stream of banter. Maybe it was all those authors I loved and respected who said you must get out and experience life and gather stories before you have anything worthwhile to write about.
No, none of those things were really it. Now that I think about it, the motivation came from my grandmother. She was the one who made me finally get unstuck from the web of my hometown.
When I was going to college I lived with my grandmother. She was growing rather old and was not able to safely stay in her home alone. We made a deal. I would live with her and help her out around the house and make sure everything was okay, and she would help me out with the expenses of college that my grants and part-time job could not cover. This was a good deal for both. I was relieved of some of the stress of going to and paying for college, while she was able to remain in the home she was familiar with and did not want to leave.
One day as we sat talking over coffee she looked deeply in my eyes and began to speak.
“Billy,” she said,” if you want to travel, do it while you are young and have the chance. Because you never know what will happen that might make it so you can’t travel in the future. Don’t do like your grandfather and I did. We planned and saved to start traveling after he retired. Then he had the strokes and went blind and that ended our dream of traveling the continent. If you want to travel, do it while you are young or else the opportunity may pass you by.”
I took her words to heart. She knew me in ways better than I knew myself. She knew I was a traveler and that my soul yearned for the open road.
As I was finishing college, my grandmother’s health began to deteriorate. She became in need of 24-hour care and observation. Unfortunately (and in many ways I still regret this) I was unable to continue to care for her at home. It was just too much for one person to do. Knowing this made my feet itch severely for the unknown road. After working for a few months to save up money, I went and told grandma about my plan to go. She smiled and asked to hear the whole idea. A couple days later, a friend and I left Portland on a road trip that would eventually lead us to lands far and wide. This was the first big trip. An old Ford station wagon took us to Texas, and from there we caught a short flight to Merida, Mexico which began our big adventure into the Peten jungle of Guatemala.
I was able to share the adventures and stories of my first big trip with Grandma.
|
We spent a few months in Guatemala exploring, learning and exchanging, but we eventually had to return to our hometown. This was a good thing though. Financially, we needed to recharge. More importantly though, I was able to share the adventures and stories of my first big trip with Grandma. She listened with her crooked smile to all the stories, occasionally reaching over to touch my arm.
A few months later I received a phone call from my father saying I had better get to the rest home right then if I wanted to see Grandma one last time. She was on her way out. I had a good friend rush me there. We arrived just as she was breathing her final breaths. Though she was not awake, she was aware that I was there. I held her hand and said goodbye. I knew, as I am sure she knew too, that this was just the beginning of a life’s adventure that would take me to places I never dreamed I would see.
“Grandma made me do it,” was the reply I always gave when my other family members asked me why I kept traveling year after year.
If considering a move to India, check out Pan Cards Eva.
Photo: m01229/Flickr
Living life to the fullest is a great way to honour your elders. The good ones always want their descendants to have a better life.