By Alison
“If we experienced life through the eyes of a child, everything would be magical and extraordinary. Let our curiosity, adventure, and wonder of life never end.”
- Akiane Kramarik
Choosing Adventure Through Grief
When I lost my husband, I didn’t just lose my partner — I lost the life we were building; our dreams as a family. I lost the father of my children, the person I imagined growing old with, raising a family with, traveling the world with. And suddenly, I had to face life not just as a grieving wife, but as the only parent to our children.
The hardest part wasn’t only my grief. It was trying to function as a family when someone so vital was missing, and the children were so young. There’s no manual for that. How do you make things feel “normal” for your children when what’s missing is their father?
Everywhere we go, the reminder is there — families out shopping together, laughing on vacation, holding hands at school events. The image of a "complete" family is all around us. And then there are the holidays — especially Father’s Day. I absolutely love the handmade gifts the kids bring home from school. But in our house, those gifts aren’t for Dad anymore. They're made for Pops and Papa — their grandfathers — who we love dearly. But the absence of their father is always felt, especially on days like that.
The question always arises at least once during Father’s Day weekend – “Why did Daddy die?” The answer I have been giving to my children since they are so young to understand is that “Daddy loved you very much, and he got really sick.” I know one day I will have to explain exactly what happen, but right now this is what they can understand.
It would be easy to withdraw. To compare. To let grief build a wall between us and the world. To stay home, avoid those moments that feel like reminders of what we don’t have. But David and I had a dream — to explore the world and let our kids come along for the ride. We wanted them to experience life fully, to learn about other cultures, to see beyond what they are exposed to do on a daily basis.
Adventuring Alone: How I Found Courage as a Mom of Three
I’ll never forget the first time I decided to take all three of my kids on an outing—alone.
They were five, four, and three years old. At those ages, even a trip to the grocery store felt like preparing for battle. But that day, I gathered my courage and packed a bag with all the essentials: snacks, drinks, towels, sunscreen, and a change of clothes. We were going to the splash pad and playground. It might not sound like a big deal to some, but for me, it was huge.
If you had seen me, you might’ve thought, “She does this all the time.” But inside, I felt like all eyes were on me. I was aware of every move, especially from my three-year-old, who was (and still is) extremely mischievous. In a blink, he would take off running across the playground to some other activity or something interesting without thinking nor listening to me yell his name.
Despite my nerves, I wanted this to be the beginning of something new—more outings, more independence, more memories.
Thankfully, my older two are great listeners and natural helpers. They often step in with their little brother without me even asking. Their teamwork gave me just enough confidence to keep trying. So, we started to branch out more.
The next phase of our adventures included day trips to museums in Cleveland and Pittsburgh. That added a new layer of challenge: long car rides, public behavior, and navigating busy city spaces. But with each trip, I grew braver. And the kids? They surprised me with how adaptable and curious they were.
From there, our weekly outings expanded to ice cream parlors in various cities while exploring, sporting events, outdoor events and celebrations, play zones, and more parks. What once felt impossible slowly became part of our routine. I started to enjoy the outings instead of fearing them.
Our First Big Family Adventure
The following summer, I planned our first real vacation—just the four of us. We were heading to North Carolina (9-hour car ride), where we’d spend a week with the in-laws and then drive to the beach for another week.
David and I have always loved the beach. When we lived closer—just two hours away—we went as often as we could. Now, I was ready to share that love with our kids, and this time, as a solo parent leading the charge.
Looking back, these experiences weren’t just about “getting out of the house.” They were about proving to myself that I could do hard things. They were about showing my kids that adventures don’t have to be perfect to be meaningful. And most of all, they were about creating memories—together.
Family Dynamics Changing –
So even though our family looks different now, I made a promise to myself and to our children: I will not let their lives be defined by what they’ve lost — but by what they’re still discovering.
We choose adventure, even with grief in the backpack. We travel. We taste new foods. We visit museums and cities and nature trails. We meet people whose lives don’t look like ours. We laugh, we cry, and we keep going — together.
This isn’t the life we imagined. But it’s still a life. One filled with meaning, with love, with growth. I can’t give my children their father back, but I can give them the world — and the freedom to step into it boldly, knowing they are still part of something beautiful.
If you're walking this road too, know this: you are not alone. Your family may look different, but it is no less whole in love. Let’s keep building, keep moving, and keep choosing life — one brave, beautiful step at a time. The promises that you made to your spouse you can still keep with each little adventure.
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