A little less than two years ago, I was traveling in Sydney, Australia, a week or two into a two and a half month solo trip. The trip commenced in Kauai, Hawaii, USA, for five days, continued onto the East Coast of Australia for about two and a half weeks, and finished up in New Zealand for nearly two months. The journey to even buy the plane tickets for this trip, was a long and arduous one. Fear, anxiety and depression all threw huge obstacles in the way of the expected excitement I should have had. Regardless, I purchased and I went. Adventure and finishing a trip that got cut short was the original purpose. Ultimately, the outcome was profound and life-changing growth and healing.

Although I was visiting a friend in Sydney (a boy I met in New Zealand and had also had a short romance with), the majority of my time was spent solo.  Eager to see all that Sydney had to offer, I set off on a relaxing day in the Queen’s Garden, followed by hopefully an evening at the Opera house (potentially with the company of my host).  Strolling the various walkways, walled by a large variety of familiar and foreign botanics, my peaceful solitude quickly turned to gut wrenching grief. Purple flowers.

They were everywhere. All types, all shades of purple. Stunning, majestic, and petite.

Now you are likely wondering, “what’s the big deal about purple flowers.” Well, let me tell ya. My mom’s favorite color is purple, and therefore I would send her photos of purple flowers from all over the world, over email or text message, or even a postcard using Touchnote, to share the beauty and remind her that I am thinking of her and love her. Instantly, without warning, I doubled over, sobbing, right there in the middle of a nicely paved walkway, in the quiet flower laden halls of the Queen’s Garden. In an attempt to not disturb any others, and potentially give myself a few minutes to purge my emotions, and move on with my day, I sought out a corner of the garden that may allot me some privacy. No luck. Sorry Natasha, but for the second time in Australia, you must sob in public. I know, you have been here less than a week, but there is just no other option for you. Cry away.

Eventually, the tears stopped flowing, the nostrils got cleared out with some tissue, and my breathing return to a normal rhythm and volume. Exhaustion kicked in, as it does after a good cry. Exploring Sydney continued on, regardless of the emotions that arose.  As planned, my feet ended up inside the Sydney Opera House, perusing their schedule of the entire week, but more eagerly pondering the options of the given evening at hand.  No, it was not a world renowned orchestra, symphony, or vocalist that was on the bill. Rather, it was none other than comedian Russel Brand. Yup, right there at the Sydney Opera House.

Clearly, ignorance had me assuming that this theatre showcased high class arts exclusively.  Fortunately, I happen to love comedians, and Russel Brand in particular. Having already read both his “Booky Wooks”, it was a fact that I admired his sense of humor, and raw openness about his struggles in life. Here is where things get interesting. While texting my brother, contemplating my next move, I decided at least inquire regarding what tickets are available, in case I do decided to spend my evening solo, in and around the Sydney Opera House.

One ticket left. Standing room only – cheapest ticket in the house.

Score. Double score. Triple Score.

Without hesitation, or any forethought, I not only purchased the ticket, but as a whole decide I am going to spend the evening as if my family were actually by my side. My brother would have been overjoyed to see Russel Brands ridiculous antics with me. Moreover, a favorite gift to give to my mother would be a night at the theatre, ballet, or a music concert.  The night procedes, with a numerous highlights. Peacefully sitting at a outdoor restaraunt, along the water, right near the Sydney Opera House, sipping on a glass of champagne, sliding raw muscles down my gullet, and indulging in the oh-so-delicious polenta fries, the staff anxiously wait for me to leave so they can fill the two chair table with two butts who will buy two real meals. I could not be bothered. In my heart, my mother was there across from me, sipping her Chardonnay. Towards the end of My. Brand’s set, the crowd welled up with laughter and the theatre grumbled with shuffling of seats, as the lanky Brit climbed and crawl his way up rows of chairs, and across dividers, committed to get closer to the middle of the entire audience.

Unforgettable. Blissful. Peaceful. Hilarious. Freeing.

Grief punched me, right in the gut, hard. Fighting back, I decided to wrap grief up in my arms, and bring him right along with me throughout my exploration of the area.

We need to accept that we will cry. We need to be aware that there are going to be heartbreaking days, and also days of bliss, sometimes both mixed into one experience. Rather than avoid these feelings, or wallow in them, we need to turn those dear memories and the wishes we have, into special moments here and now.

Are you dreading a certain holiday because you know it was your loved one’s favorite, or your favorite to spend with this person? Do you wish he/she was with you for a special occasion, or just the everyday chat over lunch or phone call?  Does it break your heart when you see something you want to share with him/her but you simply cannot because there is no longer someone here on earth to answer that email or text message?

It sucks. It f***ing sucks. There is no other way to describe those wishes and feelings. Personally, I have found techniques that works, to not only curb the tears of sadness and need to be glued to a couch or bed, but instead to develop tears of joy, and feel as close as you possibly can to actually spending time with your loved one again. Doesn’t this sound amazing? I know! Listen up.

What would you do if he/she was still on this earth with you? What would he/she want to do, or what would you two do together? What reminds you of being with him/her in a positive way?

Do you miss talking to your loved one, over email, text or phone? Of course you do!

Write. I have a journal that is solely for writing to my mother. Every single entry starts with, “dear mom,” and the language, topics, and details are all what I would share if she was sitting here next to me, or on the other side of the phone.

Do you miss your loved one during a family holiday? Of course you do!

Start a new tradition that exemplifies what he/she loved, a specific amazing memory you have with him/her during that holiday, or something you both always talked about doing. For Christmas, my brother and I decided to start making my mom’s lasagne for the main course. We have no recipe and neither of us were ever even taught how to do it. Together, we played around with ideas and best guesses. It turned out phenomenal. It made us both smile and I am positive it made my mom smile, also.

Do you miss sharing photos, exciting moments, and ideas with your loved one? Of course you do!

Share all of those things with the world. Whether it is a friend, family member, co-worker, or the vast community you can find online of people whose passions and interest match yours, someone out there would be overjoyed to receive what you would like to share.  Recently, I was on an adventure at Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, and was reminded of the need to still share. The path at the beginning and end of our cliff scramble was lined with beautiful wildflowers. Noticing the sweet and simple purple daisies, my boots stomped right passed, continuing along the trail. Returning, after climbing 1800 feet over one mile, there was a tall blonde girl leading down to capture a photograph of this purple flower. I smiled, and once again, marched on, anxious for lemonade and lunch. About two yards passed the girl, I saw another flower of the same kind, and haulted dead in my tracks, almost causing my partner to bulldoze right into me. My right hand reached for my digital camera, always attached to my chest strap during arduous hikes, unzipped the turtle shell, and change the settings to macro. After snapping about seven frames of different angles, I stood, returned the camera to its case, and smiled, remembering my mother, the love I have for her, the love she has for me, and the beauty of nature that we have shared with each other.

Forever and always I will take photographs of purple flowers, for her – my best friend, biggest cheerleader and favorite cook.

Keep the memories alive. Keep the love alive. Keep your soul alive.

Date: 2017-07-08

Location: Lizard Creek Campground, Ranger Cabin, Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming, USA