Lost, and Then Found Once More: On Traveling Alone Without Sight
“The feeling of being out on my own is worth all the fear I must fight to get there.”
Here I sit again. Once more I find myself seated and facing the helpful travel agent who made all the necessary arrangements for my trip. I’m not certain if being here is right—in a way, it feels like I’m going backwards. Like I will undo all the progress I’ve made, all that confidence gained.
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More in this series
I Will Always Be Able to Find My Father in the West
Out on the road and in the great outdoors my dad and I discovered we were more like each other than we believed.
Our Hair: How I Found Community and Coconut Oil in France
Across the thousands of miles, and the hundreds of years of historical and cultural distance, Albertine and I had our hair in common.
Traveling With My Parents Taught Me “Growing Up” Is Not “Growing Old”
My parents were old. It was time to take seriously the last years we had left. That is not, of course, how they saw things.