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Laura Murphy with Bret Witter · 2026 · memoir

The Solo
Honeymoon

Devon O'Grady died in Laura Murphy's arms a month before their wedding. The honeymoon was already booked. She got on the plane alone and spent six weeks crossing Europe — Ireland, London, the French Riviera, a hill town in Chianti — posting it as she went, to family and friends, and then to several million strangers.

6

weeks, alone, on a trip planned for two

1

seat on every booking made for a couple

3

months in bed before any of it was possible

Pack the case ↓

what it actually is

Not a travel book.
A question, asked for six weeks.

The question is whether life is still worth living after the worst thing has already happened. Murphy does not answer it in the first chapter and then spend the rest of the book decorating the answer. She goes to the places, some of them badly, and reports back.

It is her first book, written with Bret Witter. She is a lawyer from St. John's, Newfoundland, which is worth knowing: this is not a professional traveller's story, and the person telling it had no intention of telling it to anyone but her family.

interactive · pack the case

What do you take on a honeymoon for one?

Everything on this list was packed for two people. Add them one at a time and watch the case fill. Nothing here is heavy. That is the part nobody warns you about.

click an item to pack it

packed

0/7

The case is empty and the flight is real. This is the part where most people cancel.

the route

Where the trip went.

Ireland

A mountain, climbed, and screaming from the top of it. Grief needs somewhere to go and a summit gives permission that a living room never does.

London

A West End show and backstage afterwards. Strangers who had watched the videos started arranging things — and letting them was its own act of nerve.

The French Riviera

Dinner above the Mediterranean, at a table booked for two. She kept the booking.

Castellina in Chianti

The hill town the book keeps returning to, and where the trip stops being an endurance test and starts being a trip.

She filmed it as she went, at first for the people who already knew what had happened. The audience arrived later and uninvited, which is why the early entries are the honest ones.

community insights

What the trip taught.

Distilled from the memoir in our own words. Vote for the ones worth keeping.

"Grief is not the price of love. It is the same thing, arriving later and in the wrong order."

resonated with this

"She went anyway. Not because she was ready, and not because it would help — because the trip already existed."

resonated with this

"Three months of not getting out of bed came first. The trip is not the part that made her brave."

resonated with this

"Doing the thing alone does not make it yours instead of theirs. It makes it both."

resonated with this

"Strangers will carry you further than you expect, if you let them see that you need it."

resonated with this

"A mountaintop in Ireland is a good place to scream. So is a car park. The location matters less than the permission."

resonated with this

"Millions watched, which is not the point — but she posted before she knew anyone would, and that is."

resonated with this

"Life is still worth living is a question, not a slogan. She spends six weeks actually asking it."

resonated with this

action steps

For the first year.

Written for anyone holding a plan that was made for two people. Not a recovery programme — the five daily ones are simply what she kept doing while nothing felt survivable.

01

Do not cancel it yet

Whatever was booked for two — the trip, the table, the tickets. Decide later. Grief is a terrible time to make permanent decisions, and the deadline is almost never as fixed as it feels.

I'll do this
02

Write down what the plan was for

Not the itinerary — the reason. The version you would have told a friend. Everything you decide about it afterwards should be measured against that, not against what other people think you should do.

I'll do this
03

Pick one thing you will carry

A jumper, a ring, a printed list in their handwriting. One object, chosen deliberately, does more than a suitcase of things you could not face sorting.

I'll do this
04

Tell three people exactly what you need

Not 'let me know if you need anything' — the specific thing. Someone to drive you, someone to sit in silence, someone who will still text on day ninety when everyone else has moved on.

I'll do this
05

Set the return date before you leave

A trip taken in grief needs an end, or it becomes running. Six weeks was a length, not an escape, and that distinction is what made it survivable.

I'll do this
06

Say the name out loud, daily

In conversation, not only in your head. The greatest fear after a death is that the person disappears from the world's vocabulary, and that is one of the few things entirely in your hands.

I'll do this
07

Give the grief somewhere to go, on purpose

Scream on the mountain, cry in the car, write the letter. Scheduled release beats ambush — the feeling arrives either way, and it is kinder when you chose the room.

I'll do this
08

Record one small thing each day

A photo, three lines, a voice note. Not for an audience. The record is what lets you see, months later, that the flat days were not all of them.

I'll do this
09

Accept one offer of help a week

The specific, awkward, real kind. People want to be useful and do not know how; saying yes once a week is a practice, and it gets easier at roughly the rate everything else does.

I'll do this
10

Do one thing you planned together

The restaurant, the film, the walk. It will hurt and it will also be the closest thing to company. Both are true, and only doing it teaches you that.

I'll do this

“Your pain is a reflection of your joy. Nobody grieves like that for a life they did not love.”

HourLife distillation

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Printable plan

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Questions

Frequently asked

What is The Solo Honeymoon about?

A memoir of the six-week honeymoon Laura Murphy took alone across Europe after her fiancé Devon O'Grady died in her arms a month before their wedding — a trip she documented on TikTok, and a book about whether life is still worth living after that.

What are the key takeaways from The Solo Honeymoon?

Readers on HourLife most often highlight ideas such as: “Grief is not the price of love. It is the same thing, arriving later and in the wrong order.” “She went anyway. Not because she was ready, and not because it would help — because the trip already existed.” “Three months of not getting out of bed came first. The trip is not the part that made her brave.”

Who should read The Solo Honeymoon?

It's a strong pick for readers exploring Love & Relationships, Resilience & Mental Strength, and The Courage Curriculum. HourLife distills its core idea into community-voted insights and one practical action worth trying.

What's one thing I can do after reading The Solo Honeymoon?

Do not cancel it yet — Whatever was booked for two — the trip, the table, the tickets. Decide later. Grief is a terrible time to make permanent decisions, and the deadline is almost never as fixed as it feels.

How long does it take to read the The Solo Honeymoon summary?

About five minutes. The HourLife summary distills The Solo Honeymoon into its core idea, 8 community insights, and 10 practical actions you can apply right away.

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