The Trip that Never Happened

April 2014 was when it was confirmed that mom’s cancer was growing, rapidly. Significant disease progression was the phrase written under the “Impressions” notation of her CT scan. Progression is potentially the worst verb used in the oncology world. I knew this would be true, but like most things, having it said out loud, seeing it in black and white, just makes it more true. 

A week later my dad and I finally coaxed out of my mom a place she would want to visit before she died. She had seen so much in her life, loved so many places. I wonder if she didn’t want to ruin any memories she may have had there when she was healthy...Finally her answer was to see Zion National Park, Bryce Canyons, and to see Celine Dion in concert at Caesar’s Palace in Vegas. 

We booked 4 flights (mom, dad, Steph, Brittany), booked 5 different handicap accessible rooms spanning 3 states, reserved a rental car and bought tickets to see Celine. 

Mom died the day we were supposed to leave. 

I won’t go as far as to say she willed herself to die before we left and not in the middle of Utah or Arizona, but if there had ever been an example of divine intervention, that may have been it. 

Every single place refunded our reservations excluding the lodge in Springdale, Utah- right outside of Zion National Park. We were given a credit for the deposit to be used in a year, a gesture I found offensive and useless at the time. 

My husband (still weird to say that) wanted to go to Las Vegas so he could attend one of the world’s largest car shows, SEMA. Our friends also wanted to go and had rented a house that we could stay in for basically free. We said why not? Let’s go to Vegas. 

The last time I booked flights to Las Vegas and intricately planned a trip, someone died and the trip never happened. This left me with not even an ounce of desire to plan anything beyond purchasing place tickets. So I didn’t. I barely looked at Groupons or deals in the surrounding area. I was just planning on showing up and playing it as it went. 

Las Vegas is not in my top 5 places to visit, probably not even in my top 50, so in my limited thoughts about going, I proposed we go to Utah and use that credit at the end of the trip. Add a little vacation at the end of our vacation. As it turned out, the prices are drastically reduced in the off season, by half to be exact, so for the price of one night’s stay in June, we were able to stay 2 nights in November. 

Watching the volcano show at the Mirage

We had fun in Vegas with our friends, Ben and Erik went to the car show, Amanda and I did some hiking and shopping. We enjoyed the sun and being able to wear shorts and flip flops again. When we rode by Ceasar’s and the Bellagio, I would tear up slightly wishing mom could see the water show and marvel at the extravagant excess that is Las Vegas. 

Red Rocks Canyons, NV

  It wasn’t until we got to Utah that I really began to envision her with me. Ben and I just saw Interstellar and there is a line that says “A parent’s job is to become their child’s future memories”. Their child’s future memories. Laws of relativity aside, this is a profound and confusing statement (to me at least). My mother was here and her job was to create memories for me in my future life. How incredible of a task?

I know this to be true because as I rode through Nevada, Arizona and Utah to get to Zion I saw and heard her as I heard her on every trip we took together. ‘Steph look! Isn’t it amazing?’ ‘This is so cool!’ Her hand in mine. Her never ending quest to make sure I didn’t miss anything. I hear her in myself. ‘Look Ben!’ ‘How wonderful is this?’ I heard her in the encouragement of a stranger on Instagram to hike one of the more treacherous hikes in Zion because mom was always the one to push me to my outer limits of comfort. My memories of those places now include thoughts and visions of her. 

The view from our patio at the lodge

Horses at the lodge

Hiking in Zion on a beautifully sunny day

holding on for dear life

This valley reminds of the final scene of Land Before Time

We hiked a monolith called Angel’s Landing in Zion National Park. It was named Angel’s Landing by a Methodist minister who saw it and envisioned it being a place that angel’s would come and land, sit and watch. 

Angel's Landing

Once we got to the top, I looked up and wondered if she was there, sitting there with other angels. Watching Ben and I hike together, out of breath, taking breaks to snack and talk to other adventurers, reveling in seeing us create memories together. I wondered if she was telling them look at us, smiling.

Interstellar also discussed the idea that our parents become our ghosts. Ghosts that help guide us in life. That really resonates with me right now. As a new wife, starting another job, continuing school. I have so many questions I want to ask her. Questions I never knew I needed to have answered so soon, questions about how to be a supportive wife, how to make stuffing on Thanksgiving, how to balance work, school and happiness. I know those questions will only grow larger as I embark on other new things like becoming a mother myself for instance (not anytime soon!). 

She isn’t here to answer those questions, but I know I can turn to her ghost, angel, spirit, omniscient being, whatever you want to call it, and I can find clues. Memories I am making include her now, perhaps only the idea of her or an unrelated experience with her, help me discover my own answers. I see her in my dreams a lot lately.  She usually never says anything, most times the dreams are of me bouncing an idea off of her and she is just listening to me speak. I find my own answers looking to her. 

We took the trip that never happened, or at least parts of it. Created new memories of her with it.  She would have loved Zion. So I loved it for her. She did her job so well, it is impossibly easy to have her presence felt in my future memories.