Chapter 4 - I want to Run but I Need to Stay

May 4th - Day 4

Robin used to sing me the song, "don't drink, don't smoke, what do ya do?".  Robin smoked very passionately, he lived for his cider, and in the last while his light beer.  Every other word that came out of his mouth was a swear word; and he drank coffee like it was water. I already told you about the sludge Robin drank about 5-6 times a day (equal parts of instant coffee, sugar and water).  He had all the bad habits so I didn't have to.  He also ate butter and greasy food as his staple.  I had to learn early on in our relationship that this was just Robin, and there was no way I was going to change him.  I am not a drinker, a smoker and I don't drink coffee, so I could never understand the urgency or desperation.

Robin and I planned to go up the Grouse Grind, an intense hike up Grouse Mountain with our friends Kim and Colin.  I was bragging that he would die going up the mountain as he doesn’t take care of himself, and I would zoom past him due to my healthy lifestyle.  Robin had a cigarette at the base of the hike, frustrated, I suggested the other hikers tell him how bad it is to smoke in this healthy environment.  He went ahead with Colin and Kim and I walked together.  Then half way up he stopped and had another cigarette.  As I approached him I gasped and between breaths I said, “Robin, please, don’t, smoke, I, have, no, energy, to, complain.  He sauntered up the Grind like it was nothing and then at the top he had another cigarette, while I collapsed on the ground.

Zubiri to Pamplona - 21.2 km

I get up when the first person rises and I think it is about 5:00 am. I head to the washrooms which are co-ed. It feels so strange to be brushing my teeth with this man standing beside me. I say “Hola”, he says “Hola”, I have no idea where he is from and luckily he isnʼt into conversation in the morning. Every time I walk into the bathroom I feel like I have gone into the wrong one, it will take me awhile to get used to this co-ed washroom thingy.

The sun is just starting to come up as I head out on my own. The terrain is up and down and up and down but mainly down. I worry about Laura coming behind me as I know the downward slopes will be hard on her knees. I spend a lot of time thinking about how she is going to do this journey. I wish I was there to support her and help her through the slopes. There are so many people and they are doing it. I am sure she will be fine as well. I should not worry.

G a Korean actor limps past me and said that he hurt his knee. I give him some vitamin C powder and let him know this speeds the healing properties of his body. We part ways and I feel better. I know there will be other people on the journey to help Laura over her hurdles just as I was here to help G, ever so slightly.

I still have no camera to take pictures of my ventures, I think I could use it as my memory. Many people pass and I ask them where they are from and they remind me that we have met before. I feel so embarrassed. Everyone looks the same. I am still in a fog and not wanting to meet anyone. The people all seem so nice, but whenever I talk to them I feel so sad.  Their presence triggers me and they have not done a thing to hurt me, they have only been nice.  Why am I doing this, who walks 800 km's?  This is a crazy venture.  I wish I could be in Santiago without having to walk, I could get on a bus and not have to do any of the work.  I could...but I really don't want to, I want to do the work.

I have no idea how far I will make it today. Everyone kind of follows the guide book and they all get to the same places. I have the guide book but I am not so much into going more then 20 km a day but there are larger albergues in the destinations laid out in the book. It is so strange as I donʼt even know these people but I have a pull to keep up with them. Even though I donʼt want to talk to them it is still nice to see familiar faces.  

I start the day with no idea of how far I will get but I make it as far as Pamplona. It seems like an interesting city, it is where they do the running of the bulls.  I am happy I made it all the way here. In the guide book people go further but when I get my bed in the albergue I see so many familiar faces. The same Spanish couple that was beside me last night is 2 bunk beds down. There is an Italian man that came in late last night here and the Brazilian that was at the albergue yesterday before it opened is here again and I am in the same section as 3 of his friends. There is 100 beds in this section and they are divided with little walls of 2 bunk-beds in each little l-cove. Feels strange to be bunking with 3 other men but they are all very nice. Even though we canʼt speak the same language, we get along well.

It is surprising to run into the same people but I guess we are all on the same journey together so I shouldnʼt be so shocked. It is nice to see the familiar faces, even though I donʼt have to go as far as the guide book says I think I am going to do the distance recommended as it is really nice to see the see the same pilgrims. My feet wonʼt like it but it makes me feel more secure so that makes it worth the added discomfort of my feet.

After siesta I found a store where I could purchase a camera to help me remember this journey I was undertaking.  With camera in hand I people watched in the city square while I had dinner alone then I explored the streets and went to the museum.  Returning to the Albergue I felt like I was going home.  This lifestyle is beginning to feel comfortable.

I Want to Run but I Need to Stay

When Robin died, it was so hard going to town and seeing everyone that looked familiar. I felt like moving away and never coming back but this familiarity also was comforting. It was like a big comfy quilt of emotional pain. It tore me in two different directions. It was so painful but at the same time so comfortable. I didnʼt have to put on a happy face, people knew I was struggling and why I was so sad. They also felt my pain as they missed Robin too. He brought so much happiness to peoples lives just with the little interactions he had with them in town. They knew what a huge hole that was in my life and they were empathetic.

But sometimes it was hard as I would be having a good day and all cheery driving to town and then I would go grocery shopping and someone would say how sorry they were for me and I would be reminded that my life sucked. So it was a continual roller coaster ride. Up and down and up and down but mainly down. 

I worried about my daughter and nephews and how they were handling this huge loss in their lives. I wanted to help them heal but I couldnʼt from my own place of pain. I just had to have faith and know that there will be people in their lives who will help them on their own journey. We all have a challenging path ahead of us. I have to have faith that my daughter and nephews who loved Robin so much will get through this journey without my help. I sure hope they will and every time I enter a church I light a candle and say a little prayer for them.

I wanted this emotional pain over and I wanted it over instantly.  I felt desperate.  I had no desire to wait and move through the process of grieving.  This feeling shocked me, if this is what desperation feels like then why would Robin inflict this on himself every day.  To create a world where he needed something instantly to make himself feel better.  Desperation is a horrible feeling, my mantra changed to,  “I want be be rid of this pain NOW!”  Sometimes I wish I had negative coping mechanisms.  I wish I drank or smoked or did things to cover up these feeling.  I wish there was a magic pill to move through grief without the work!