The terrible twos

That's right, today is the two-year anniversary of ... well, you know what. Do I have to say it all the time?

As you might have guessed from the dearth of posts on this blog, I'm fine. I've settled into the house (it's been a year now), I've stayed out of the abyss, I'm healthy.

Every day is a regular day—I wish Vic were still here, but he's not, so I get over it. There are “good” things (e.g., being able to watch whatever I want to watch whenever I want to watch it without worrying about whether he wants to watch it or whether he likes it) and bad things (not to be a broken record, but he's not here).

But the biggest “first” happened just recently—I took my first vacation without Vic in 38 years.

We went a lot of places in those 38 years—we traveled well together. But one place we did not go was Alaska. Hawaii was our first bucket list destination, and we loved it so much that whenever we had enough money for a bucket list destination ... we went to Hawaii. But my dad went to Alaska when I was 12, and I always wanted to see what he saw, so I would suggest Alaska every once in a while. But we both kept choosing Hawaii.

My friend Amanda used to live in Alaska, so one day we went to lunch and I picked her brain about where we should go in Alaska and what we should do. I came away with a long list of things that I talked to Vic about. He was ... let's just say ... not quite interested. My friend Dawn's husband went to Alaska for an extended period of time and took a lot of pictures. One day we were at her house, and I mentioned what David had done and showed Vic some of David's pictures. He was ... let's just say ... not quite interested. And one day, we were visiting my friend Mary, whose friend Sandy was a park ranger at Denali National Park and Preserve. I mentioned wanting Sandy to take me on a behind-the-scenes tour of the park, and that's when he said it. “I'm just not that interested in going to Alaska.”

WHAT? Not that interested? But ... but ... the wildlife! The scenery! The Northern Lights! The tallest mountain in North America! ALASKA! Nope. Not interested. So I joked with Mary, “We'll just have to go after Vic dies.”

Side note: “After Vic dies” was a common refrain in our house. Vic was not afraid of death, and he figured he would die first, and he figured I would continue to live my life, so it was just a thing we did. Don't have a cow.

Anyway, Vic died, and Mary planned a trip to Alaska for us (adding her friend Sue to give us a cheaper rate!), and I just got back from that trip.

It was gorgeous and fun and filled with adventure. But it 100% wasn't filled with Vic. The injustices started at the airport, where I had to find my way around alone—I haven't traveled by air for almost a decade, and a lot of things have changed at DIA. It was my first time using TSA PreCheck, so I wasn't sure how that worked. I had to eat breakfast by myself. And I had to take all my carry-on luggage with me every time I had to go to the ladies' room.

I always packed snacks for us—cashews for “protein” and Peanut M&Ms for “dairy” (there is milk in chocolate, right?). I would buy a container of cashews and a family bag of M&Ms and then split them in two—one for the trip out, one for the trip back. I put the “trip back” snacks in our checked luggage and the “trip out” in my carry-on backpack. So I did the same thing for this trip ... but ... I forgot that I was the only one eating them, so I brought the same amount, which was twice as many as I needed. Plus I was sitting next to a complete stranger, and I didn't want him to judge me for eating too much, so I ended up having a LOT of airplane snacks left over, and I have been eating them for three weeks.

We started our trip with a cruise. Not a Love Boat–type cruise, but an “expedition journey.” We didn't wear a lot of fancy clothes—we wore expedition clothes. And at our first “meeting” on the ship, I noticed how many men were wearing shants. Yes, I said “shants.” If you watched Modern Family, you know what shants are—but we knew what they were long before Phil Dunphy wore his. They are pants that have a zipper around midthigh so you could zip off the bottom and have shorts. Shorts + pants = shants. Vic loved his shants. Wore 'em all the time. Zipped 'em off, zipped 'em back on. So seeing all those shants on the cruise made me miss my shants-wearin' man.

Side note: Vic would not have enjoyed the cruise—although it was basically a floating boutique hotel, when we were in the ocean, the ship rocked quite a bit, and he would not have fared well with all that rocking. He also did not like being around a bunch of people, and he did not like group outings.

All our vacations were documented thoroughly through Vic's skillful photography. I took pictures with my phone. I took some pretty good pictures, as a matter of fact, but if you've ever tried to take a picture of a humpback whale breaching, an otter playing or an eagle on the other side of the river, you know the value of a long lens. Vic would have taken some astounding photographs on this trip. He also would have taken a fair number of pictures of me, but every time I wanted a picture of myself, I had to take a selfie (which I am not good at) or ask someone else to take it (which I am not good at). Not having anyone around all the time to take pictures of me is something that bothers me even when I'm not on vacation, but drop me into a beautiful place, and it's just all the more noticeable. Vic. Is. Not. Here.

While I was on the plane reading my book and listening to my music, one of our wedding songs came on. Although this was not vacation-related, it still broke me a little bit.

Finally, we took a train from Anchorage to Fairbanks. There was an annoying lady who was not following the rules, and the bartender had to scold her—twice—and that was something we would have giggled about and made fun of for the rest of the trip.

There were a lot of tears on this trip. All the things he would have loved, all the things I would have loved doing with him, just the idea of never taking another vacation with him.

But.

(There's always a but.)

I took a vacation by myself. Sure, not every moment. Mary and Sue and I did a lot of things together. (We were very good traveling partners, actually.) But I figured out the bus system in Vancouver and ... uh ... visited some yarn stores. I walked through Ketchikan alone and ... uh ... visited a yarn store. I went to a bear observatory and a glacier on my own ... no yarn store. I ate dinner alone one evening when Mary and Sue were both feeling poorly. And after they went back to Phoenix, I drove to Denali National Park and Preserve on the rarest of rare sunny days (there are an average of seven in July) and saw Denali. By. My. Self. I met a number of Alaskans who said they hadn't even seen Denali because it's just usually socked in. (And then ... uh ... I visited a yarn store.)

These were all pretty scary for me, emotionally. The idea of driving to Denali was particularly fraught. Alone? In the middle of nowhere? What if I got a flat tire and missed my flight home? What if I went all the way down there and saw nothing?

But what if I went home and didn't try at all? How long would I kick myself for? (Forever.) And what would Vic tell me to do? He would tell me to go for it.

So I did.

And now I know I can take a vacation without Vic, and I can walk in a strange city alone, and I can ask people to take pictures of me, and I can rent a car and drive to Denali on the same day as my flight home.

I don't want to take a vacation without Vic, but that's not an option anymore, so at least I know that I can.

I will write more about my vacation on my other blog, Love Talk, including a lot of pictures, but I'll leave you with a few of my favorites.

This bear is about 10 feet from me, we are separated
by a wooden fence around a viewing platform.

This humpback whale just breached over and over and over. 
I got video of him doing it nine times. NINE TIMES!

This is Dawes Glacier. It is at least 300 feet high 
and approximately 1/2 mile wide.

Me, in the classic “point at the sight” pose.

NOT a wild moose—this little lady was
at the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center.

Ditto‚ but this is a musk ox, gender unknown

That little white cap in the background is Denali.
I asked a complete stranger to take this picture.

This is also Denali ... from the plane. It seemed
like we were close enough to touch it.