In February of 2016, I received a phone call from my cousin JoAnn. As children, JoAnn and I saw each other  often, because our mothers were sisters. She and her family lived upstairs from my grandmother, and my family lived five miles away, but we visited my grandmother and JoAnn’s family often. Even though JoAnn is four years older than I, we were fairly close. I followed in her footsteps to Queens College, and we both became teachers.  As time passed, the typical things happened in our family that happen in most extended families: the cousins married,  moved away, and were occupied by their jobs and the families they created. We  saw each other at weddings and funerals.

JoAnn had recently suffered life’s most unimaginable pain, the loss of a child.  Her son Gregg passed away in November 2015.  One year  earlier,  someone was set to accompany Gregg, age 37, to Medjugorje, Bosnia, the site of apparitions of the Blessed Virgin Mary, where the ill and others go to pray for  a miracle. Gregg was terminally ill.  Just weeks before their departure date,  Gregg’s travel buddy  cancelled and JoAnn stepped in. That wasn’t easy because she didn’t have a passport, but emergency arrangements were made, and the two of them set off on their journey.

JoAnn  shared with me that the  emotions she and Gregg had in Medjugorje were  inspirational and life-changing. They both  experienced peace  and joy in their hearts and souls. JoAnn had lost these feelings after Gregg’s passing; she wanted to return to Medjugorje to find them again, but she didn’t want to go alone. Her husband wasn’t able  to go with her and her son’s widow couldn’t take the time away from her job. Then she thought of me.

JoAnn thought I would be a good candidate to accompany her for a few reasons.  I’ve had experience at airports, getting local currency, and learning many of  the skills travelers develop.  We didn’t really talk about religion during our phone calls through the years, but I had recently told her that I became a Eucharistic minister at my church. So, she asked me if I might like to join her.

I spent a month thinking about JoAnn’s invitation. I love the many cultural experiences that are part of travel, such as visiting  museums and eating local foods.  However, Medjugorje has no museums, and I had no idea what the food is like there. The focus of each day would be prayer. Did I want to spend a week at prayer? And then there was the cost. I had been saving for a trip to California to visit my son, whom I only see for a few days at Christmas each year since he  relocated there. Did I really want to postpone visiting  him?

At the beginning of March, I decided to accept JoAnn’s invitation.