Nine years, but really all we have is NOW

I’ts mid August and normally, this would be my nine-year anniversary post.
Right now, though, my heart is elsewhere.
I don’t know how the last few months can feel like they’ve both flown by and somehow stretched into what feels like a decade… especially the ones since January. Sigh
Lately, things feel a little unhinged, a little unsettled. I know I’m not alone in grieving what was and feeling the weight of what may be ahead.
It almost feels frivolous to sit down and reflect on a joyful life of travel, picking up where I left off this time last year, given the state of the world. And yet, maybe that’s exactly why I need to: to remember joy, to hold onto it, and to carry it forward. I promise I’ll share a regular, mundane nine-year update in the coming days.
That promise feels especially important now, as we’ve recently lost a dear friend, suddenly and unexpectedly and with that loss comes the reminder that every moment is precious.
L. was the best of us, and her absence is felt in every moment by so so many. She was deeply dedicated to making the world a better place, known for her involvement in several political and social causes, but her lasting impact extended well beyond that, shaping so many other areas of life.
What I admired most was her ability to walk a perfect line -compassionate, yet fierce- even in the face of resistance, injustice, or indifference. She spoke with kindness, conviction, and solid, deep knowledge. She never pushed or preached as people with strong convictions tend to do. She rather gently challenged people without ever backing away from what she believed was right. She had a quiet strength, never needed to raise her voice to be heard.
We need more people like her in times like these or at all times for that matter. And now she’s gone.
My heart goes out to her husband E., her daughters K. And C., and to all her friends and loved ones. There are so many people truly heartbroken about this.
So yes, I could write about how many National Park Service units we visited since my last post and all the plans we had for this travel season. But right now, all of that feels so… unimportant.
Because in the end, I’m just going to repeat myself and write what I always write: life is short, nothing is ever guaranteed, and we need to hold on to what matters most while we can.
A tragedy like this brings into sharp focus how quickly life can change—and reminds me just how important it is to cherish every day.
TDA and I have made some tough decisions lately and have some big changes coming up as a result of those decisions. But it doesn’t feel right to share them in the same breath as this unexpected and sudden loss. And it is something I wanted to address before I can move forward with other news.
So yes, this is a somber update. I promise to share more about the mundane and everyday joys as well as our upcoming plans in a few days. Until then, I’ll be reflecting on how I can find my own way to help fill a tiny piece of the void, something her family suggested to all of us during her celebration of life.
Rest in power, L. You will be dearly missed and fondly remembered.
I love this, and I love you. Such a wonderfully written text.
Aww, thank you Pam! You are so kind!
Love you too!