The Pilgrimage Chapter Two: Settling In

It seems it takes a while, two weeks in a place with an address and predictable bus and train lines, before I feel cozy, settled in. This was, and is, my goal when traveling; I want to be in a place long enough to understand it and my relationship to and with, the environment. But this particular grey-skied island is different: it’s the place of my parents’, brother, aunties, uncles and cousins’ birth. 

I was here a decade ago with my youngest daughter who, thank God, did all the navigating. It was a swift, mostly sight-seeing trip which made me long to come back and settle in, become a neighbor, a friend, record the sights and sounds so that I’d always remember that while I’m a California-American, my DNA and soul’s history resides here. 

It took me ten years to return. Ten years! I aged from 60 to 70, my grandsons became teens, I retired from teaching, sold my house, welcomed four whipper snapper grandchildren into my heart, became a vanlifer, traveled four times along the Pacific Northwest, immersed myself in California’s Central Coast, lost my beloved dog, took my first cruise, visited Hawaii, the Caribbean with my niece and her family, flew to New York about 30 times, fell in love with Canada, saw The Wizard of Oz at The Sphere in Las Vegas with my buddies, Julie and Ken, and camped and camped and camped and camped, never wanting the adventure to stop.  

A decade is a long time, but it vanished in a snap. Like this trip. At the start, it felt like I had forever—three weeks–but today I’m on the last leg of the journey.

Today, my cousin and I leave the greater London area for the northwest of England where I hope to help Cassandra re-envision her parents’ home in Stockton Heath. It’s hard to move on, to claim the turf your parents left behind, but that’s what parents want for their children; to embrace life to the fullest, reject worry and fear, to live boldly, joyfully, and know that their love is eternal. And all the stuff, it’s just stuff, It’s the memories that matter.

Like our walk along the Thames River, in the rain, in the cold, misty-eyed at seeing the Houses of Parliament skyline, chuffed at dropping by The Globe Theater gift shop after enjoying the bounty of Borough Market on a Sunday afternoon. Front row seats to The Mousetrap, which has had a continuous 74-year London run, after indulging in a pre-show dinner at the flamboyant Sarasiro.

Then there was my birthday dinner filled with laughter and conversation as we enjoyed afternoon tea at the cat café in High Court and later a fish and chips supper at a historic pub, The Flask. Trips to Marks and Spencers and Waitress, consuming bottles of European wines, Red Leicester, Cheshire and Lancashir cheeses as we cheered and jeered EuroVision finalists and Married at First Sight Australia hits and misses. Staying up late. Sleeping in. Rain, hail and teases of sun. Spectacular and normal. Which is what I hoped would happen; settling in as remind myself why I love the people of my people.

Distance is a killer. Relationships are shoved to the back shelf, left in the dust and cobwebs, forgotten until one finds an excuse to finally clean out the pantry. For me, it was turning the big decade with a daunting zero, an opening that nudged me to jump. Gleefully, what I’m discovering is that on the other side of the portal is love, love that shows up in all kinds of ways; in rowdy Ted Lasso-esque, blue-scarfed football fans chanting on their way to Wembley Stadium or in the sweet recorded “See it. Say it.  Sort it,” or in phrases like “Fancy an ice cream?” printed across a Walls frozen treats truck.

I’ve missed out; my people, my family, this place. 

But I’m here now, that’s what’s important, with nine days to go before I wrap up my bucket list journey. The next leg will, no doubt, be emotional as I visit Grappenhall, the family gravesite, meet-up with relatives, and enjoy a pint at Dad’s pub, The Rams Head. While it’s taken me far too long to get here, I’m grateful I finally listened to my heart. I’m grateful to my cousin, now a best friend and a sister, the both of us celebrating an appreciation for our shared lineage. The journey of discovery continues.