"Tell me, what else should I have done?"

A meeting of the Sara(h)s and mortality

This week, I’m away from Nairobi, exploring the Kenyan coast, and the change of location has brought a change of topic. So, if you’re here for the teacher talk only, you might want to skip this one.

It’s a short flight from Nairobi to Malindi, just about one hour in a small plane that fits maybe 20 passengers total. Seating is first come, first served- and as luck would have it, a lovely lady from New Zealand plopped down next to me. She was heading to Lamu, and I to Watamu. We were chatting about where she’d been and where she was going- after Lamu, she is doing a 7-day horseback riding safari in the Mara! Badass.

She said,” I’m 62, what am I waiting for?”

And about halfway through our flight, she said, “What’s your name?” I replied, Sarah- and her eyes lit up, “I’m Sara too.. But do you spell yours with h or no?” Sidebar here for all you non-Sara(h)s of the world: this is a defining and universal question in the world of Sara(h)s. Now, my Kiwi Sara, does not spell her name with an H, but I liked her anyway.

The strange synchronicities followed from there. She asked if I had any children and I gave my standard answer, “No, I have an elderly beagle.” When she asked what his name was and I replied Monty, she let out a guffaw. I just lost my Jack Russell named Monty last year! Two Sara(h)s, two Montys, two solo female travelers.

Sara dropped into conversation without much fuss that her 30-year relationship had ended, and she had begun to travel solo. She talked about a Facebook group for ‘solo female travelers over 50’ and how a lot of the women in the group were newly single and asking themselves the same series of questions: What am I waiting for? What do I really want? How do I want to spend my time?

I looked at Sara’s face: she’s exactly 20 years older than me. She has piercing blue eyes and skin that shows signs of a life well-lived. Grooves and brown spots, miles away from the ‘glass skin’ that Instagram is always trying to sell me products to achieve. Her face was like the rings of a tree; it marked the passage of time, the solo adventures, the two adult children, the beloved Jack Russell named Monty.

This week, on one of my favorite podcasts, “Wild Card” with Anna Martin, Michelle Obama was the guest. The structure of the show is that the guests choose, at random, a series of cards, each with a question on them. In her answer to the question, “How often do you think about death?” Michelle Obama shared a moment with her Mom towards the end of her life. During a commercial break from one of her ‘courthouse dramas,’ Michelle’s mom, Marian Robinson, remarked, “Wow, this went fast,” and when Michelle asked, “What did?” Ms. Robinson answered, “Life.”

Last year, a friend and close colleague died young and unexpectedly. Her name was Vivienne, but those close to her called her Viv. That loss, more than others I have experienced, left a groove, a ring on my heart. Although at the time of her death, my leave in Kenya was already in the works, that loss further propelled me towards this adventure, towards the question that future Sara planted: “What am I waiting for?”

I’ve realized that to get old is a privilege that not everyone gets to have, which is why I loved looking at Sara’s face. I don’t want ‘glass skin,’ I want a face and a life that’s well-lived in.

And though I think this quote from Mary Oliver’s poem, “The Summer’s Day,” is overused- I can’t think of a better mantra to guide me through this trip, this moment, this life.

Tell me what else should I have done?

Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it that you plan to do

with your one wild, and precious life?

-“The Summer’s Day”- by Mary Oliver

This one’s for Sara, happy adventuring.