I Took My 80-Year-Old Mom on Long International Trip

Walking up the steep, winding track to the Ci’En Pagoda in Taiwan, I could already feel the mid-day sun pinking the back of my neck.

Several members of our tour group were ahead of us, red-faced and out-of-breath, staring with dismay at a set of stone stairs disappearing up the hillside among the trees.

Although my 80-year-old mom was the oldest in the group, younger members had been complimenting her stamina since day one.

However, I still felt compelled to watch over her to ensure she didn’t overdo things, and on that particular day, I was concerned about the heat and elevation.

Ignoring my urging to wait in the shade, she responded by walking determinedly to the foot of the stairs and starting the ascent, buoyed by encouraging words as others passed her on the path.

My mom is a good traveler, but it had been a while since she’d taken a long trip

Months earlier, my husband and I had planned for our college-student daughter to meet us for a 10-day guided tour in Taiwan.

When I’d idly asked my mom if she’d like to come too, she surprised us all by signing up immediately. It would be her first trip to Asia, her first group tour, and her first overseas vacation in several years.

Initially impressed by her sense of adventure, I secretly grew apprehensive. My mom is a calm and cheerful travel companion on domestic trips, but I dwelt on whether she’d be comfortable navigating a long flight, new foods, and full days of sightseeing. She’s fit and active, but at the end of the day, she’s still 80.

But during the planning process, she seemed enthusiastic and committed. She was sure she would keep up with the packed itinerary, so I decided to embrace her positive attitude.

Throughout the trip, my mom kept surprising me

Once we arrived in Taipei, Taiwan, I watched in wonder as my daughter and mother bent their heads together over my mom’s phone, signing her up for the tour group’s WhatsApp chat.

Back home, my mother would usually rather call us than text, so I figured she’d download the app and ignore it for the rest of the tour.

However, with her granddaughter’s regular IT support and thoughtful interactions from some of the other ladies in the group, she quickly gained confidence in her newfound skills, posting comments and exchanges in the chat.

She even appeared in one of the group chat’s daily photo galleries, her bright smile a contrast to the serious concentration on the faces around her.

The picture was taken while we were being taught the steps of a traditional dance, and, humblingly, my mom’s weekly line-dancing lessons meant she picked up the instructions more quickly than most of us.

While half of us were shuffling left instead of stepping right, I had received several admiring whispers: “Your mom is having lots of fun, and she’s really good.”

Throughout the trip, however, it turned out she had more skills of her own to share. Always curious, my husband asked about the backstory of the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall as we waited outside for the changing-of-the-guard ceremony to start.

I was about to resort to Google for the answer, when my mom chimed in unexpectedly with an impressive recall from her high school history lessons. Turns out, she knew a lot more about Taiwan than I realized, and I was glad she had spoken before I could pull up a search bar.

This wasn’t the only time her memories saved the day. One night, I was keen to go out and join others at the night market to sample the local cuisine, but my mom was tired after a long day on the bus.

Instead, we decided to experience Taiwan’s convenience-store culture. Tension diffused as we headed out to the nearby 7-Eleven, loading up on local snacks to take back to the hotel room for an impromptu family picnic.

Over a tuna mayo onigiri, and perhaps under the influence of canned wine, my mom shared some hilarious, new-to-me childhood stories that had all four of us laughing along. It wasn’t the local food experience I was expecting, but it’s one I’ll remember forever.

I learned to see my mom as the independent person she’s always been

I also frequently think back to the day on the stairs. In response to my suggestion that she wait in the shade, she hiked up all those steps to reach Ci’en Pagoda above Sun Moon Lake, fittingly built by former president Chiang Kai-Shek in honor of his mother.

Halfway up, I finally realized it didn’t really matter to her if she saw the pagoda or not; being supported in her choice to be independent and active was the most important thing for her.

I’d also realized that my mom was holding her own as part of the larger group. She was interested and engaged with our traveling companions, and was one of the first to remember names and backstories.

I’d started the trip thinking I was looking after my mother by checking on her, but I ended up appreciating what the rest of the group saw — an active, engaged traveler enjoying new experiences and sharing them with her family.