Chasing Memories

BY RACHEL BETTERS

It is nighttime in Krakow, Poland. We just arrived in the heart of the city after dining at a traditional Polish restaurant with too many consonants to pronounce. We are wandering through the Old Town Square, the streets refreshingly calm after the crowds of Eastertime Prague. My friends stop in front of a boy playing Ed Sheeran songs next to an open guitar case; Abby drops in a Polish coin, uncertain of its value.

Three days later, the four of us are on a hilltop outside of Budapest, looking down on the sparkling city. It is unlike anything I have ever seen. We are giddy with the cool night air and the astonishing views, snapping photographs with our phones and recording videos in an effort to capture the beauty of the night. Abby leans forward and stretches out her arms dramatically, mocking an ancient statue behind her.

Around a year later, we are all reunited. This time we stand in a sterile gray room, the dullness interrupted only by gifts from friends, a handmade quilt sewn with messages and a thick Italy guidebook on the bedside table. One of us is in a hospital bed, the rest gathered around awkwardly. We struggle for something to hold on to as Abby drifts in and out of consciousness. Between her foggy state and the mask on her face, she is often incomprehensible. She mutters about taking something out of the oven, a quiet remnant of her lifelong passion for cooking and baking, but we are unable to hold a true conversation with her until one of us mentions our past trip to Eastern Europe.

“Many people chase memories around the globe or retrace their loved ones’ footsteps in search of closure and connection.”

We do most of the talking, but she remains lucid as we remember our travels, laughing quietly at humorous memories and adding in occasional garbled commentary. We keep the conversation light, reminiscing about the attractive tour guide we met in Prague, or the afternoon in Berlin when a boy on our trip spilled chocolate ice cream down his pants. She shares her dream to travel to Italy “when this is all over.” Nothing of substance is discussed, but we know these moments are important. Of all the memories we’d shared with Abby--late nights finishing the yearbook over pizza and laughter, early high school mornings, celebratory ice cream sundaes at the local Culver’s--those nine days of European travel are what stayed with her.

Abby never made it to Italy.

It had been her dream: a culinary tour of the country, planned for the summer after she finished her chemo treatments. It would have been a combination of the things she loved best (travel and food) and a celebration of all she had been through (beating cancer and graduating high school from a hospital bed).

I did make it to Italy, for two months during a study abroad program. For the most part, those months were purely exhilarating and carefree. I spent my weekends traveling to cities throughout Italy and Europe; I even returned to Germany, remembering Abby as I ate the hearty food and walked the old town squares she had once enjoyed.

RACHEL BETTERS, HUNGARY

Most of all, I remembered her in the churches. I remember sitting at St. Peter’s Church in Salzburg, Austria during one of my weekend trips; it was the first time I traveled alone. I sat in the pew with a journal and a pen and wrote about Abby, because something about being alone in that glorious space made me think of her. I was taken back to a church in my hometown the summer before, friends and family dressed in her favorite shade of blue, singing “Amazing Grace” in her honor. I lit candles for her in churches across Europe, in Austria and Germany and Florence’s Duomo. It was a small gesture, but in my sentimental mind, it was fitting.

It pains me how easy it is to forget about those I’ve lost in the routines of daily life. But travel, especially solo travel, brings old memories back to the forefront of my mind. When I revisit a place like Germany, a place I associate with such a specific time and group of people, it is impossible to ignore her absence. I know my story isn’t unique, and that many people chase memories around the globe or retrace their loved ones’ footsteps in search of closure and connection. But prior to these trips, I had seen travel as a way to escape the real world. Now, I realize it is also a way to remember the most important parts of it. Regardless of the years and events that pass, I take comfort in knowing that I will always be able to find Abby on a hilltop in Budapest or in the nighttime streets of Krakow.

Souvenirs is a collection of travel and multicultural experiences from students at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Souvenirs’ mission is to provide a platform for students to share lessons they learned while traveling and to provide readers with quality information while inspiring wanderlust.

RACHEL BETTERS, ITALY