Widow holidays: Karen’s story

July 2025

WAY’s Social Media Officer Karen shares the story of her first solo holiday with her four children just a few days after her husband’s funeral last year…

“As I ran through the train station with my toddler in a pushchair and my three boys running closely behind, I honestly thought we were going to miss our train. Of course, it was leaving from the platform furthest away and I was, as always, running late. With a little bit of luck and a security guard who took pity on us, we stepped aboard with just a single minute to spare. Filled with adrenaline and relief, I sat everyone down and counted our bags (again) to make sure we hadn’t left anything behind. 

We were smiling, full of chatter, and excited about our trip to Edinburgh. Nobody around us would’ve guessed that I’d been at my husband Ted’s funeral just a few days earlier. That’s the funny thing about grief. It isn’t something you switch on and off, or something that makes you cry all the time. It’s quite like riding a rollercoaster of emotion, in the dark, for what seems like the rest of your life. The ups and downs are largely unexpected. 

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It wasn’t until the conductor arrived to check our tickets that my first reality check hit. “Only five?” he asked. It was like a punch to the gut. “Yep, just five,” I answered with a tearful smile, head down. This was a trip that had been booked for a while. Ted had been ill when I booked it, yes, but he wasn’t supposed to have gone already. We were positive, optimistic people, Ted and I, so we’d booked the trip. 

Going on holiday when you’re newly bereaved is a bit of an odd experience. There was a part of me that wanted to stay at home with the doors locked and the curtains closed after Ted died. But I also felt absolutely compelled to get away from the house, the sorrow and the pity that inevitably surrounded us at the time. 

Escape from reality

It was hard to get on that train with my children that day, but it seemed a better option than being alone with my thoughts and my grief. We spent three nights in Edinburgh, walked thousands of steps, and took in many sights. Of course, Ted never left my thoughts, but there, away from regular life, I could be distracted. I could be anonymous. Nobody gave me a pitiful look (although I did get a couple of odd glances as I walked down the Royal Mile, quite clearly on the verge of tears). And nobody approached me to say how very sorry they were.

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Naturally we had to return to our regular life after our trip but those three days gave us the breathing space we needed as a family, to decompress and to begin to come to terms with our loss. I had worried that people would say it was too soon for us to be off ‘enjoying ourselves’ but honestly, everyone who matters to us was fully supportive of us heading off for a few days. 

Looking back, I believe that trip was absolutely the best thing we could have done for ourselves. Uninterrupted time together was what we needed, and getting away from home gave that to us. I think the overriding lesson for me at that time was to just do whatever it is you feel you need to do for yourself and for your family as you begin to heal from your loss. If that means a quick escape from reality or holidaying alone, then so be it.”

Adapted from a blog post that was originally published on That Lancashire Lass.