Now, Next Week, the Week After and Sometime in the Future. Writing a will and I'm only 36.

October 27th, 2014, 5am

I open to the content page for this year’s The Best American Travel Writing. Amanda Lindhout’s story on being kidnapped in Mogadishu for 460 Days caught my eye. That story was my bedtime reading a few nights ago.

The next day, I decided to be responsible. I sent a couple of friends details on the upcoming Pakistan itinerary, M’s passport info, copy of my passport and just incase it all goes to shit, what I would want.

I am 36 and I just wrote my will.

I’m not being morbid, rather, responsible. It would be really shitty to leave an apt full of books, clothes and cameras and let friends sort it out or blindly guess what kind of funeral service I would want.

There is a beast inside. It has an insatiable appetite. It likes far-flung places, hidden corners and hot spots. It’s curiosity endless.

I went on a date with a cookbook editor, 45. He has a 22-year old daughter (he was young and things happen). When I learned that he has a kid, I immediately felt relieved. I thought, “oh thank god, you are not expecting me to do that with you.” I went on a blind-date with a realtor, 44. My sister and her Scarsdale (upscale suburbia) life came up in conversation. He said to me, “You will never have a house in Scarsdale.” He wasn’t being mean. It was a compliment.

I’ve already made my choice; it is the right choice. The beast is hungry. I’m going to Pakistan in a couple of weeks with a guy I meet on a layover in Hong Kong.

I came across this quote after I send the email, “you must have a relationship with death to live more fully.” Danielle LaPorte. Affirmed by the universe. Okay then.

“And if things go really really south…a simple funeral. Cremation. Take my ashes somewhere beautiful, where the sky meets the ocean, or high in the mountains; don’t put me in a box please. No regrets. It’s been hell of a ride and send my love to everyone. You know I am rather sentimental behind it all. Don’t sell my cameras, please. Pack them up and send them to Eddie Vedder. Tell him that him and Pearl Jam has kept me company on the road all these years, both their art and activism has been a point of inspiration, these cameras were my chosen instruments to do some good in this world. Ask them if they would auction it off on my behalf and the proceeds be donated to their foundation.”

Maybe the revelation in this note isn’t the upcoming itinerary with a stranger, or writing a will, but my love for Eddie Vedder and Pearl Jam. What I can I say!? “I’m still alive.”


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Charlie Grosso

Photographer - Writer. Adventure Traveller. Brand Consultant. Art Gallery Director. Possible Spy. Always on the road, living under an alias. Seeking co-conspirators. http://charliegrosso.com

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