Yes, you read that right.
Before you put on that judgy Judy hat of yours though, I want you to stop and ask yourself if your husband is dead.
Oh, he’s still alive?
Cool- Then step off.
Not that I need to justify my decision, but I booked this trip with my best friend in January 2017, eleven months before Sean died and eight months before getting pregnant. The initial plan was that Sean was going to take leave and stay home with Luke and then when I found out I was pregnant that didn’t change. But when Sean suddenly died I had a lot of decisions to make; whether or not to donate his organs, cremation or burial, who was going to be in the delivery room when Gwendolyn was born, ect. and then it hit me.
I had already paid 3.5K for a fifteen day trip to England, Ireland and Scotland. Well, now what the fuck do I do? I thought. Naturally, my first instinct was to immediately call the tour company and give them my sad, pregnant, widow story and hope they refund my money. I mean- how could I possibly leave the country for two weeks when my daughter is only four months old and my husband just died?
But after the urging of some people to put off the decision just a little while longer, I came to a realization…
My daughter will only be four months old and my husband just died- why the fuck shouldn’t I go? She won’t remember me leaving and Luke is excited to get rid of me for a few weeks (ouch! lol). My children (including the four-legged furry one) will be well taken care of, safe and loved.
Sean took a lot of choices away from me when he made his choice. He took away my husband, my best friend, my partner in life. He took away my children’s father. He took away the sweet innocence of youth and replaced it with anger and tears. He took away happines and replaced it with guilt, confusion, depression and anxiety.
But this trip is the one thing that I can control that I’m not going to let that bastard take away from me.
So I’m going.
Bon Voyage, Bitches.