- My 21-year-old son wanted to visit a lively beach club during our family vacation.
- I never expected my parents, both in their 70s, to get up and dance to ABBA.
- Seeing their joy reminded me that getting older doesn’t mean giving up new experiences.
It stopped me in my tracks and frankly scared me a little. While I know my parents are aging, I haven’t begun thinking about life without them, and I found myself spending the rest of the vacation looking through this new lens.
For the last 12 years, my husband, my parents, my son, and I have traveled all over the world on an annual multigenerational trip. And while the sights have been spectacular, what struck me most on this last vacation is just how much each of us has grown to value these trips.
The dynamic has certainly evolved. My son was 9 when we started, is now 21, and brings his girlfriend along. My parents are now in their mid-70s, with some health challenges that require more patience and care. And I’m in the middle, adjusting the trip so everyone can still participate. I used to plan for adventure. Now I’m thinking about walking distances, downtime, unpacking, and what my parents can comfortably do, while still making it fun for the 21-year-olds.
The author says she now needs to take into consideration what her parents can do, and what will keep her son entertained.Courtesy of the authorBusiness Insider USA
But what I learned on this trip was that sometimes, when choosing something for the youngest generation, a magical memory is created for the oldest, like when we went to Nikki Beach in St. Tropez at my son’s request. We had been there for lunch a few years prior, and we wanted to return, this time when we could see the true Euro summer beach club vibe in action, complete with waving white napkins and ABBA blasting from the .
I never would have guessed it, but both of my parents were up and dancing that day. My mom has since declared the whole day one of her favorites. Who knew? Maybe all they need is a “darty” (day party, as my college kid tells me!).
After what my dad had said earlier in the trip, I watched him differently that day. Seeing him dancing with my mom, laughing and completely in the moment, I understood a little more of what he meant. These trips aren’t just vacations to him. They are something he still gets to look forward to, proof that there are more places to go, more memories to make, and more life ahead of him.
The thing is, for the first few years of these trips, I just wanted to knock places off my bucket list. Now, I want to figure out how to bottle the time and have lasting pictures in my head because a time will come when they stop, when it is no longer feasible for my parents to travel, and when my son will be busy with work and his own family.
The author realized these trips won’t last forever.Courtesy of the authorBusiness Insider USA
I know the finality of life all too well, as I still struggle with the loss of my son Jake after 15 years. I know firsthand the fragility of life and how it can all change in an instant.
My dad’s comment also made me realize that I’ve been thinking about these trips mostly from my own perspective as planner and caregiver. I worry about how much walking they can do, whether they need an afternoon off, or if I’ve planned too much. He’s thinking about something entirely different. He’s thinking about what it means to still be able to go.
The success of these trips used to be measured by where we went and what we saw.Now they are measured by how much uninterrupted time we have together. As we’ve shifted from bucket-list places like Africa and the Galpagos, we’ve begun to choose places where we don’t have to pack and unpack every three or four days, where we can settle in and spend time together.
We’ve all learned that the real moments of these trips do not lie in the over-the-top experiences. They lie in the moments after the excursion, when we are all having cocktails by the pool and sharing time, the most valuable gift we all have. It’s in the final glass of wine, listening to music, or playing Flip 7 or Pass the Pigs. It’s when we are tired from exploring and stop to have a beer on a random street in a random place that we may never find again.
I don’t know how many more years the five, now six, of us will be able to do this together. I hope it’s many. But my dad’s comment made me realize that counting the years almost misses the point. We got this trip, and while we were there, everyone could still dance.
Perhaps the most important thing is that when my parents started this tradition all those years ago, they started something that won’t end with them.I know someday these trips will be for my son and his family. I love knowing my parents gave us that tradition. I’m just in absolutely no hurry to inherit it.
