She had been traveling for almost seven months now, and though she felt weaker than ever, she still found the strength to carry her luggage through the spacious airport.
This next leg of her journey was one in which she would be able to cross off a last few items on her bucket list. This leg of the adventure would be a trip to Patagonia, specifically the far southern Chilean region known as Tierra del Fuego.
The desire to set foot on Tierra del Fuego took root in her imagination when she was in elementary school, just before her 12th birthday. A chapter in one of her world history textbooks featured the expeditions of Ferdinand Magellan and for some reason the description of how Magellan had to not only battle the elements but also his own men to make it through the treacherous seas at the southern tip of South America had enchanted her.
So now, at the age of 67, she was sitting in an airport waiting to board a jetliner that would take her nonstop to Hermes Quijada International Airport in Rio Grande, Argentina. From there she would travel with a group of fellow tourists on a bus to Ushuaia, the capital of Tierra del Fuego, and, after a round of golf at the Ushuaia Golf Club (generally regarded as the southernmost golf club on earth) she would board a steam train of the Southern Fuegian Railway, known as the Train of the End of the World.
At the far southern terminus of the train ride, El Parque station, she planned to find a taxi or some such ride service to take her to the coast.
At least that's how she hoped the trip would play out. If only her body would hold up just a bit longer, allow her the dignity of making her own way into the great beyond. She did not want to pass away in a small lonely room in the corner of a rest home. She wanted to be able to set foot on the shore of the southernmost beach in South American and look out towards infinity and face death with a smile.
A defiant smile, one that said "Screw you cancer, I won. I went out my way."
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