A Gift of Travel: New Perspectives of Death

November Six Word Photo Story Challenge: “Collecting Smiles!”

Death doesn’t have to be sad.

When my mother died at age 64, I immersed into American customs: eulogies about loss and what would never come to pass, black clothing, grief support groups, stodgy cassaroles. And tears, lots and lots of tears as I held my nine-month old daughter who wouldn’t remember her grandmother. Without a religion per se, I had no higher power for comfort, no concept of seeing one another again.

Many years have passed, and I write from Urubamba, Peru, in the Sacred Valley of the Incas. I experienced Dia de Los Muertos in Cusco, noticing the joy with which people reflect on their deceased loved ones, who they believe return home during this time of year. Feasts, drinking, and laughter accompany the holiday, and these “Baby Breads” festoon alters and are shared with visiting family.

We travel not only to learn about other cultures, but to reflect on our own, to grow, and perhaps to see things a bit differently.