Day 16 - The Beat Up Old Pickup Truck

May 16th - Day 16

The Beat Up Old Pickup Truck

When we started Robins metalwork business he would go out on his 10 speed bicycle to pick up 8 foot rods of steel.  The total ridiculousness of this prompted us to buy a truck.  We purchased an old, beat up, work truck that was running and that is it, it was running.  There were no locks on the doors and we lived right by BC Place in Vancouver, we never left anything of value in it but that didn't stop a criminal from breaking the window to look for spare change.  Then to top it off they broke the other window to get in when there was no locks on the doors and no window on the other side.  So we drove around in this truck with no windows.  We got so used to it that when people would stare at us as we drove down the highway in a rainstorm, we wondered what they were staring at.  When we drove with people who had windows in their vehicles we felt totally claustrophobic.

While living in the artist warehouse space, our storage locker and studio apartment were both broken into; plus the workshop with all our tools, twice, so we decided it was time to leave the city.   We headed to Salt Spring Island in our truck with no windows and a storage tub lid to cover the hole in the passenger side floor.  We fit into Salt Spring and so did our truck. 

We went back to the city, for a trade show at BC Place and we parked down the road from our old warehouse apartment.  When we went to leave at the end of the day, our truck wasn't there.  We phoned around and found out it had been stolen.  We tracked it down to a towing yard in Maple Ridge, my Step Brother, Lance picked us up and drove us to the towing yard.  The theft ended up being my fault as I left the keys in the car,  a habit from living on Salt Spring.  As they led us to the truck, they warned us,  "the crooks have really done a number on your vehicle".  After inspection we didn’t tell the towing company employee that nothing had changed, they had just run out of propane and left it on the side of the highway.

Robin found someone to buy it for $300, over the phone.  When we dropped it at the mechanics he  said, "there is nothing at all I can salvage from this truck", but he stuck to his word and handed Robin the $300.  As we drove away I cried leaving behind a vessel that held so many treasured memories.

Castrojeriz to Fromista - 25.2 km

Today is the most lovely walk, I know I say that every day, don't I, but the walking gets better every day as I get more and more used to getting up and walking. I start early and there is a crescent moon behind an old Islamic castle on the hill.  Harry, an Australian, tells me how symbolic it is, as the crescent moon is a Muslim symbol. I walk under the stars and watch the sun come up as I crest the hill coming out of town. I feel at peace and at ease. I feel the love and tranquillity around me. I remember every time I miss someone that I can replace that feeling with love. Where I feel love, I feel God and I am happy. It is a delightfully tranquil walk. I talked to Harry for awhile and that was it for any walking companions for the day.

I arrive at the first cafe around 11:00, where there is a computer so I was able to let everyone at home know I was ok. There is a nice message from my mom and Dominique saying they miss me and that I am doing the right thing and to keep on my journey. I am a very fortunate woman to have a mother and daughter like them. Then as I continue my walk it happens again I cry and I cry. I can not control the tears. They keep coming back.  Seriously, when will this sadness end.  I think I am turning a corner and things will get better but I begin to cry, again.

When I get to the next town there are some nice Americans, Linda and David, another brother/sister team and Michele an Australian that include me in their room. They are very friendly but I have to force myself to socialize. I feel so scared as they will leave just like everyone else. Maria and Emilia are here too and Maria has a way to make me laugh. We make plans to go to the pilgrims mass together. I head out on my own to look at the town and the ancient architecture. It is moving to be in a building that has been around since 1100ʼs, I think of how many people have entered and exited this building, with so many different emotions. I fill the building with tears and I canʼt help myself from crying. The tears just come. I am not home sick like I thought I would be, I am just missing the life that I had created, here on the Camino and at home, and now all is gone.

Maria and I go to pilgrims mass and then get an assortment of food and wine to share with our companions and also a young German named Patrick. He is friends with David and Linda. He is very shy, doesnʼt drink but has a Swiss army knife to open our bottle of wine. He was first in line at the albergue and he passed me yesterday first thing so I think he likes to start early as well. As much as these people seem nice, I feel leery of making any more new friends. 

Maria outside the pilgrims mass

Why is this triggering me?

I was mad at people for expecting things from me when I wasn’t able to give to them.  Some people I was mad at because they wanted me to get financial compensation for Robin and what happened at work.  They thought I couldn’t take care of myself.  I was so angry that they were willing to hurt our relationship in the process.  Then I came to realize that the reason I was so angry was because there was a fear inside me, that I couldn’t take care of myself.  I had the same for they did, I can't do this alone, I need to be taken care of.   But as Robin’s death becomes further and further in my past, I am learning that I am fully capable of taking care of myself.    As the clock ticks forward with every action I do on my own I realize how I can do this thing called life on my own.  I am more capable then I ever thought, even before Robin and I got together.

I am also feeling guilty because life is much easier without Robin.  Yes life is more boring and I long for some excitement but his passion for living came at a cost as he was a lot of work.  I no longer have this feeling of desperation that accompanied Robin with all his addictions.  If I don't have money in the bank I just stay home and read and write.  I am not pulled into a world where he needs cigarettes, NOW and needs to borrow money from someone so he can get his cigarette fix.  Life is feeling easy but with that ease comes a feeling of guilt.

I also fear the more I move forward in my life and travel beyond my grief that Robin will become a distant memory in my life and I will no longer hold him close to my heart.  But as the days and steps move forever further away, I realize the more happy I am, the more I laugh, the more I recall the fun times with stories that Robin love is engraved more and more in my heart.  As I let go of the sadness, anger, resentment, what is left behind is the love and happy times.  Robin is part of my heart forever and will live with me until I die.  

When we left the beat up old pick up truck behind and I cried, I analysed those tears.  Why when we were getting a better truck that was safer and more reliable would I be sad to leave this rust bucket behind.  But being poor and living on the edge is like a big huge adrenaline rush, every single day.  When you get in a vehicle and you don't know if it will get you to point B, there is a thrill in that.  When it is a mystery where the money will come from to get you through another day, there is faith in that.  That truck represented a rush of excitement everyday, just like Robin did.  As I ease into the comforts of my new life I am thankful, I know that I can pay all my bills but I so cherish the memories my thrill seeking husband took me on everyday due to his compulsivity, passions and those horrible addictions.

I am thankful for this trigger as it makes me explore so I can shed yet another layer of grief exposing the core and at the core is only love.