For me, going on a long trip is usually accompanied by some form of mini-disaster. Fortunately, all of them have been rather amusing when looked on after the fact. I will tell those stories in future blogs.
This time, though, that can never be the case. I will never be able to look back at the start of this trip with anything but profound sadness.
How did this trip begin? A dear friend took her life and I found out about it three hours before leaving home for two months. I depart with all of the feelings of my own sorrow, but also knowing that I am leaving behind all of my dear ones to struggle with the pain of this event without me to share the comfort of being together. I am so sorry.
