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Vacationing with a loved one while serving as their caregiver can be a deeply emotional and bittersweet experience. Based on the nature of their disability or illness, it’s probably not your average getaway filled with endless excitement or carefree moments. Instead, for some, it may be a journey interwoven with love, responsibility, joy and—let’s face it—a bit of sorrow, too. Lynn Osmond, former tourism official in Chicago, embodies this reality, as her recent travels with her husband, Chris, have become a lesson in patience, compassion and the art of making memories when life feels like it’s slipping through your fingers.
During their recent road trips in the U.S., the need for improved accessibility and staff training in the hospitality sector became painfully clear, further exacerbating their already challenging journeys. They encountered a lack of understanding from staff at hotels, visitor centers, gas stations and other public facilities. Inconsistent bed heights were a major issue, toilet heights too, with many restrooms having toilets too low for comfort. Bathtubs, often unnecessary, took up space where a more universally designed bathroom layout could have been implemented. Simple essentials like bathmats were also missing, forcing Lynn to travel with her own, as hotels often didn’t provide them. The shortage of accessible rooms was another glaring problem, leaving very few options for those who truly need them. Additionally, many showers lacked safety bars, making it clear that many travellers needs are not being met. These experiences highlighted how unprepared the industry is to accommodate the growing number of older and disabled travelers, underscoring the urgent need for universal design and better staff training.
But in spite of these challenges, Lynn and her husband continue to travel, checking off one bucket list item after another. She shared how her husband, who suffers from Progressive Supranuclear Palsy (PSP), a cousin of Parkinson’s, requires constant care. His impulsivity and tendency to fall mean that even during travel, Lynn cannot truly switch off. “When he’s napping or when he’s gone to bed early—that’s when I get my quiet time,” she shared. Her time, she calls it. And it’s important because caregiving doesn’t allow much of it. During travel, those moments are fleeting—if they appear at all. Imagine sitting in a beautiful destination and instead of soaking in the sights or sounds, you’re on high alert, your focus not on the breathtaking view but on whether your loved one is safe.
Regardless of the sacrifices, Lynn insists on travelling with her husband. And why? Because these moments, these trips, they matter. “I won’t have him forever,” she says. That statement holds more weight than most could ever comprehend. Every trip they take now feels like a delicate dance between savoring the present and bracing for the inevitable future. The long walks Lynn might crave, the kayak rides she longs to take—they’re all put aside because she wants to ensure that Chris experiences the world while he still can. “I want to do the stuff that I can while I’m with him,” she says with a knowing acceptance.
There’s a kind of raw beauty in that sacrifice, isn’t there? It’s this tenderness that caregivers embody, choosing not to focus on what they are missing out on but rather on what their loved ones still have. Lynn, like many caregivers, finds joy in creating moments, even if they’re not the ones she might have envisioned.
For example, she recently spoke of a Viking River Cruise she and Chris plan to take in France. While most people might be worrying about packing or what to wear for an elegant evening out, Lynn’s concerns are more nuanced. “He has walker, a cane and a wheelchair—I’ll take the wheelchair just in case because it gives us more flexibility,” she mentions. And it’s not just about sightseeing or joining the excursions—Lynn must constantly assess: Is the terrain too rocky? Is there accessibility for a wheelchair? Can Chris handle this? In a way, it’s travel, but with an entirely different set of rules. And yet, despite all of that, they still go. They still take those steps forward into the unknown, unsure what new challenges they’ll face but certain that memories are being made.
These memories, Lynn says, are what will stay with her when Chris is no longer by her side. “You’re not going to remember the time sitting in the living room trying to feed him,” she explains. “You’ll remember being on the Needles Highway with awesome nature in front of you.” It’s this outlook that so beautifully sums up what it means to travel with a loved one who needs care. It’s not about crossing off places on a bucket list or checking into five-star hotels. It’s about being present, about holding onto what remains when so much has been taken away.
Lynn and Chris’ relationship has transformed through travel, evolving into something deeply connected yet difficult to articulate. There’s a shift that happens when one partner becomes the caregiver, and the other becomes more dependent. “All of a sudden, you’re not equal partners anymore,” Lynn reflects. “There’s an imbalance, and that can be frustrating for both of us.” That frustration manifests in small ways—gentle reminders to Chris about shuffling his feet or keeping his head up. These seem like minor corrections but pile up in the everyday fabric of their lives. And while there’s immense love, there’s also exhaustion. Exhaustion from being the coach, the nurse, the cheerleader, all rolled into one.
Still, Lynn wouldn’t trade it for anything. She knows Chris would prefer to be her equal once again, to walk without fear of falling or to explore new places without constantly checking in for reassurance. But, as she puts it, “You go out with guns blazing.” The point is not to sit in the safety of your home, cocooned by routine. It’s about getting out there, embracing life, even when it’s messy, even when it’s hard.
One of the most heartwarming elements of Lynn’s story is how, despite everything, they still manage to find joy. She’s learned to use an app called Polarsteps to document their travels, creating a digital memory bank of photos and notes. At the end of the year, she plans to compile these into a book, gifting it to Chris for Christmas. It’s going to be a collection of their 2024 adventures, tangible proof that despite the obstacles, they still managed to make their way through the world, together.
Their travels are filled with moments of grace and small victories. Whether it’s navigating the locks of the Panama Canal or simply getting through a day without a fall, every day is a reaffirmation of their enduring love. And while Lynn admits there are moments of embarrassment for Chris—especially after falls—she never lets that deter them. “It’s better to go out there and create those memories,” she says.
For anyone who hesitates to travel with someone they care for, Lynn’s advice is simple yet profound: “Don’t overthink it. You just have to go for it.” That’s it. Life is short, often shorter than we realize, and waiting for the right time or the perfect circumstance means missing out on the now.
There’s a unique kind of courage in stepping into the unknown, knowing full well that there will be challenges, that things might not go as planned, but also trusting that the memories you make will far outweigh the difficulties. In Lynn’s world, the purpose of travel isn’t about the destination—it’s about who you’re with when you get there. And in that regard, every trip, no matter how complicated, is worth it.