Why I Changed My Will After Visiting London Again – A Travel Memoir
I changed my Will after my latest trip to London. Not because I'm dying anytime soon (that I know of), but because a place I'd earmarked for my eternal rest turned out to have… a Mr. Whippy ice cream cart on it.
Let me back up.
London was one of my favorite places in the world, soaked in memories from a seven-month trip to Europe in my early 20s with my best friend. Somehow, during our time there, we'd often end up standing on Westminster Bridge at midnight, gazing at Big Ben and Parliament like a couple of very jetlagged philosophers. That spot had it all: dignity, history, the feeling of importance and ultimate “coolness”. Standing in the middle of that bridge felt like being in the center of a very dramatic, very British movie.
It represented everything that felt cool at 23: independence, possibility, being 5,000 miles from home with no one knowing what car I drove or which schools I'd gone to. Just me and Big Ben. Ancient, magnificent, and somehow, now mine.
I got a little sentimental about it, obviously. So when I finally made up my Will last year, 35 years after those London nights, I specified that half my ashes should be scattered in Monterey Bay, and the other half tossed into the Thames in front of Big Ben and Parliament.
Romantic, right?
Coming Back — And Immediately Reconsidering
Recently I returned after 30 years to check on my future final resting place. I walked to the middle of Westminster Bridge on a perfectly ordinary Wednesday afternoon and…uh oh.
It was Pier 39. It was exactly Pier 39. Furry hot pink rickshaws blasting hip hop music. Vendors hawking tchotchkes, soft drinks, bangers, and honestly I stopped reading the signs. A Mr. Whippy ice cream cart parked in the shadow of one of the great monuments of Western civilization. Tour buses stacked three deep. Crowds so thick that the extra-wide sidewalks with dedicated bike lanes — dedicated bike lanes! — couldn't contain the chaos.
I stood there in the middle of the bridge thinking: my kids would have to elbow through a street fair to scatter my ashes.
I'm Not Her Anymore, and Honestly? Good.
Everything in the world changes with time, I realize more and more the older I get. Things don’t say the same and that’s OK and that’s the way it should be. I wasn’t that 23 year old woman anymore, fun and optimistic as she was. I think I am still fun and optimistic but in a 59-year-old way! And I actually would not want to go back. That’s a good feeling to really know that.
Now at 59 I know that 10 years from now and then 20 years from now I will look back at my cute little 59-year-old self and think of how naïve I was! And I love that thought so much!
Not Quite Dead Yet, But Planning Ahead
So, for now, my will has been changed to have ALL of my ashes released in Monterey Bay. Not because I love London any less, but because I understand more clearly what matters.
My kids are the ones who'll be making the trip, and the last thing I want is for them to be fighting off a furry pink rickshaw while trying to have a moment. Monterey Bay is where my family and friends made memories; good ones, complicated ones, the kind that stick. It's where they'll remember me most naturally.
Note to my kids: if you do happen to stand on Westminster Bridge and gaze at Big Ben and Parliament someday when I'm long gone, think of your dear ol' mom anyway! 🙂
Have You Ever Revisited a Place That Once Meant Everything to You?
I’d love to hear your story. Has something you once adored lost its magic, or transformed into something new? Leave a comment below or join my newsletter for more stories like this one. Let’s keep exploring, together.
