Day 6 - Going Where the Moment Takes Me

May 6th - Day 6

Just a little information to start this story off: 

1) Robin’s drink of choice up until about 4 years before he died was Growers Apple Cider. 

2) My family does not drink. (I am referring to the Friesen side not the Wolff side ) 

Robin’s and my first Christmas together we headed to Abbotsford to spend with my family, that was 1996. Remember our last “white” Christmas? It snowed so much, that we got completely snowed in with my family, the Friesen side. Robin’s first alcohol free Christmas since he was 19. 

Robin was ready for us to go home to Vancouver but the highways were closed. We found out that my Uncle Phil was crazy enough to drive to Vancouver in the blizzard as My Uncle Phil and Auntie Betty had tickets to go see Cats at the Queen E. in Victoria. My families Mennonite background prohibits them from wasting any money for any reason :)

We made our way over to my Uncle Phil and Auntie Betty’s house to get ready for our journey, as soon as Robin took a seat my Uncle Phil offered Robin an apple cider. Robin responded with the most enthusiasm I had seen all Christmas “Oh Yes Please”.  When my Uncle returned with the drink in hand I had to stop myself from laughing out loud as my Uncle handed Robin a hot mulled apple juice.  Robin could not hide his disappointment.

We proceeded to drive to Vancouver and in my Uncle Phil’s words “ We reached the Mt Lehman exit on Hwy 1 and found that the westbound highway was closed. By this time my windshield wipers were so “iced up” they were not doing much good. We hit a red light as soon as we exited the highway,  both Robin and I jumped out of the car and banged the windshield wipers on the windshield to de-ice them! We continued on, occasionally having to stop the car to de-ice the windshield wipers, every time with Robin jumping out of the car to help out. We did make it into Vancouver, dropped Robin and Charlene off at their home.” I am pretty sure Robin’s first stop was the liquor store for some “real” apple cider.

Puento La Reina to Estella - 21.9 km

I started a little latter then usual. I guess I slept a little better last night. Walking out of town there is a really cool bridge. I stopped to take a picture and was joined by other pilgrims starting their journey with a picture. I saw another familiar face, the man with whom I brushed my teeth  a couple days earlier. More people were starting to be familiar as I walked. I went to take a picture from another angle and he said "wrong way". I said “Photo” I am speaking to everyone in broken English even if I donʼt know if they speak English or not.

As I walked out of town there was a very steep hill. The guide book said it was steep and it wasnʼt exaggerating, it was steep and hard, I was very relieved to get to the top of that hill. Myself and a tall young woman would take turns passes each other as we tried to get our breath back. We had no extra breaths to exchange conversation. When it leveled off it turned into a beautiful plain. There were ups and downs for the rest of the day but nothing like the first hill out of town.

I continued my pattern from last night and began to talked to more people, I saw Joseph and said hello plus the Canadians. Then Shylo a South Africian walked with me for awhile, he is a historian with lots of insights, a perfect walking companion as we were walking on old Roman Roads; the rocks still evidence of their expansive reign. Then he educated me on the Basque wanting to separate from the rest of Spain which was communicated through graffiti.

I went on further and the tooth brush guy walked up to me and asked me if I had to go to the toilette, I said “no”. He said it looked like I had to go to the toilette, I said "that is the way I walk". I chuckled as he was the first pilgrim to make such a bizarre introduction.  I found out his name is Christian. I asked how old he is and he said “39”. I said “you look like your 29”. He asked how old I am I said 47, he said I looked 49. Right away he made me laugh, he is from Sweden but was raised in East Germany. He told me of his wife and family at home and how he just walks and relaxes and his mind is calm as he listens to the birds; I feel envious.  He walked on and I talked to Joanna a young woman from Poland. I still never told anyone that my husband had died, it just couldnʼt escape my lips. It felt like I could pull myself together to have these little conversations and then when I was alone I would cry.

As I arrive in town and I found my way to a little parish albergue. Once I was settled I asked how to get to the post office so that I could mail my postcards. Getting back to my albergue was an adventure in itself. I was given a map and when I showed locals where I had to go on the map they couldnʼt show me how to get there. I was a block away at one point and I asked someone and they sent me back down the hill. I was so exhausted, the thought of leaving the albergue again felt daunting. I had told Shylo that I would meet him and some others for dinner but I was not going anywhere. I picked up baguette and cheese and salami and that was my dinner. I had no desire to eat, I just knew I needed the calories for all the walking I was doing.

When I got back I found out that Christian and Joanna were staying at the same albergue. I met some more people who spoke German, Klaus and Margaret. Klaus could talk English the best so was interpreting to include me in the conversation. I told stories of my husband with no reference to him being dead. I said he is the tortoise and I am the hare, my style on this pilgrimage as well. This group all pass me routinely throughout the day. Christianʼs English was limited and did a mime of my slowly walking, he looks like the game at the carnival where the man slowly trudges up the Swiss Alps and you have to shoot him. No I didnʼt shoot Christian but it felt good to laugh even if it was at my expense.

They had no idea how nice this was to laugh and so very hard at the same time. They invited me to go to go to pilgrims mass, I said I would join them after siesta. I think I got too much sun, I was shivering and cold as I lay on my bunk. I wore all my clothes and covered myself with 2 blankets. In bed I cried and cried. As much as it was nice sitting and talking to the group of Germans, I was really pushing myself to interact.

I hadn’t intended on talking with them but when I went to my bunk to write in my journal there was a woman making up her bed who was in the way of my bed so I couldnʼt retreat to my little cocoon. I really didnʼt have a choice. I was pushed to interact by some invisible force and did my journalling outside and I ended up talking.  I am glad I did and hope I will feel better in time for mass, but I slept through it.  I think due to pushing  myself to interact and not feeling well I layed in my bunk and cried, I hope no one could tell I was crying.  I told stories of Robin, my husband, like he was alive. I dreaded meeting these people again as I didnʼt want to admit to them and myself that he is dead.

Spending Time in The Moment

My saving grace after Robin died was my grandson Xavier. He lived so in the moment and if I cried he would rub my arm and say, "It's ok Grandma". He is such a wonderful little boy. Sometimes he would have a temper tantrum and I would definitely be pulled to living in the moment.  In the moment was the only place I could live; my past tortured me and my future felt hopeless. When Xavier and I would walk around Victoria and have interactions with people in the park I would tell stories of my husband and give them no clue that my husband had passed away. 

Before Robin passed away I babysat Xavier 2 afternoons a week, 2 months after this dreadful day I resumed my duties of watching him while Dominique went to college.  Now when I walk around Victoria where Xavier and I would come for walks I remember Xavier playing around the fountains or running in the park, first, then I recall  the underlying feeling of the loss I felt at the time.  When I walked down Dallas Road and looked out at the ocean I remembered first the adorable little 1 year old exploring and running down the path learning how to make Grandma jump up and run after him with glee.  I am so happy for myself that I continued on with my life even though I was hurting.  I used to think I was crazy for pushing myself now looking back I see it was a gift.  

Children have a wonderful way of going where the moment takes you.  Being able to play with no time line and no agenda was perfect for where I was emotionally.  So as I make this pilgrimage I am proud of myself for meeting new people, even though it is excruciatingly hard.

Day 5 - Seeing How Far I Have Come

May 5th - Day 5

Food was a huge part of Robin's life.  He was hypoglycemic so needed to eat regularly.  When Robin took me to go see his mom and step dad in Australia the flight was 18 hours long.  Robin already knew he wasn't going to be able to smoke so eating often was critical to help him have a stable mood for the flight.  When we went to the travel agent we told her that Robin was hypoglycemic and to tag him on the passenger list. 

When we boarded the plane Robin was already feeling the need for a cigarette but then the flight attendant brought him a meal before anyone else.  Of course this pleased Robin but then he noticed they noted that he was diabetic not hypoglycemic.  There was no sugar in the meals and they were quite bland.  

After he finished his meal he called over the flight attendant and told them about the misunderstanding.  He said what he needed was to eat a lot.  Well the Quantis staff definitely heard him, they brought him meal after meal after meal. It was phenomenal food.  Then a different flight attendant came over and said 14C, they said I was suppose to come over and see for myself.  Robin had a stack of finished meal trays piled on top of each other.  He was eating beyond anything they had ever seen, they were dumb founded.  

They handed out stickers to the passengers that said "wake me for meals".  Robin made sure his was displayed and his meal enjoyment was repeated again and again.  When we walked off the plane he asked the staff where the closest restaurant was, they gave him directions in amazement.  This he did just for a reaction as he was stuffed.  He wore his sticker "wake me for meals" on his hard hat with pride to work.

There are so many stories of Robin and food I could write a whole book just on this subject alone.  He was definitely someone who lived to eat!

Pamplona to Puento La Reina - 24.1 km 

The Brazilians warned me about their friend and that he snored, even he warned me. I made sure to put in ear plugs but it didnʼt help. I was awake what felt like all night. I sure wish I had brought a watch then at least when I woke up I wouldnʼt be laying there waiting for the first person to start packing up. Also I wish I would have brought my phone. I feel so disconnected from everything and everyone. There are only a few people that I have crossed paths with that have no phone, at night all you can see is the haze of phones on peoples faces as they connect with their loved ones at home.

So I get up around 5:00 and pack up and start walking. The city is dark and lit by the street lights, this morning it is brisk, with the temperature hovering around zero. As the sun comes up I start to see the storm clouds come in. I prepare my pack by covering it with the waterproof shell. There are a few sprinkles but nothing to get wet but it makes for refreshing walking weather. As I pass by the wheat fields the wind is beginning to move the crop like an ocean waves. I stop every once and awhile to feel the wind on my face and watch the dance between the wind and the wheat. I feel very fortunate and blessed for giving myself this time.

There is another steep climb today, with the storm clouds coming in I am worried that it is going to be the same as the first day. But as I begin to climb the storm clouds begin to scatter and am only left with a refreshing wind. Summiting the climb amongst the wind turbines there is an amazing view and I am blown away with how far I have travelled. I can see the Pyrenees far in the distance. It is so rewarding seeing how far I have come taking one step at a time, I am satisfied but tired.

The descent is much harder than the ascent, it was rocky and rough and very easy to sprain an ankle. I am over cautious and slow. Also on the other side of the slope the climate has completely changed. It is like I started the day in Spring and ended it in Summer. The foliage and everything is different, now there was Aloe plants and olive groves and the odd lizard scurries across the path.

I get the albergue which was an old convent in good timing so go through my pack to see what I really need and don't need. All the accommodations have pillows and it has been reasonably warm so I leave behind this down vest and a touque. The Canadian family I walked up the Pyrenees is here, it is nice to chat to people from home especially as they are from the Vancouver area.

I walked around town and then went for dinner. I sat alone and watched the people go by. There wasnʼt much room so a young German man named Joseph asked to join me. This is the first person that I have sat and had a conversation with. Everyone else was idle chatter as we passed. It was interesting to hear about his life.  We waited what felt like eternity to even order our meal. There is only one waitress for the whole restaurant. I really donʼt have any clue what I am ordering so it is a surprise when I eventually get it, but  everyone is surprised as she has all the orders wrong. We were like donʼt worry, it doesnʼt matter, just give me some food. There were 3 tables outside and we all laughed about the service. There were Dutch, New Zealand, German and myself Canadian. I left the dinner ready for bed but feeling more comfortable talking to people. As I made my way to the convent I was stopped by Victoria the Spanish woman who bunked beside me for the last two nights. She was stopping walking and going back to work but she gave me her e-mail and phone number in Spain if I needed help with anything. I canʼt believe how nice this felt to be taken care of. I had done no reaching out and yet people were reaching out to me. Victoria and Joseph were my angels today.

Feeling the different types of grieving

Five months after my husband died my first boyfriend whom I dated from the time I was 15 - 20 years old died. I was so scared going to his funeral and seeing his family that I was going to be back at square one emotionally. I was worried I was going to feel the same devastation and turbulence in my life again.

I went there early to spend time with the family and I could instantly feel the difference. Zoel and I talked about once a year to catch up and see how each others lives were doing and of course there is always Facebook to see what is going on. My life did not change with Zoelʼs absence. It is his families lives that were now changing. He was a part of my life but not my everyday life. My life stayed the same. I was able to go to the memorial with great appreciation for his part in my life. But now it was his family that was hit hard. I witnessed through their pain how far I had come on my journey of grief seeing their pain now so raw and recent.

 At home I had to get back to work, I now had to start to support myself all on my own. My new future was completely different then my past with Robin. I could now pull myself together enough to finish a full day of work without falling apart. I had the best jobs for where I was in this grieving process. I work with older people and people with disabilities. Both groups of people live fully in the moment.

When Robin died I didnʼt want people around. I felt like staying in my little house and never leaving. I had to go to work but then I would just come home and cry. I had so many people reaching out to help me and wanting nothing in return. I felt so comforted. It was hard to be around people but there efforts never went unnoticed.  I couldn’t eat at all.  I lost so much weight.  Food used to be such a huge part of my live with Robin and now I wasn’t eating.  I had to force myself to eat vegetables and fruit as I knew they were important.  But as the time moved forward a bit I started to get my appetite back again.  I was able to talk to people about how I felt.  I was able to sit down and talk and eat and start to differentiate between the different ways I was feeling, all the feelings weren’t all clumped into one dreadful feeling anymore.  Life was moving forward without Robin.

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!  

Day 3 My Healing - Your Healing - They Are Different

May 3rd - Day 3

Robin and I decided to elope because we weren't too keen on having a big wedding.  A small wedding in my family is 100 people and Robin's family consisted of his step mother in Vancouver, and his mother and step father in Australia.  I also had been a bridesmaid 7 times and I know how hectic and stressful a wedding can be and I had no desire to inflict this stress or the financial burden on ourselves.  So 2 months after our engagement on the beach in Australia, we headed to the beach in Victoria.  We went to a regular clothing store and purchased a cute little white dress. The salesgirl said "this could be a wedding dress".  I said “it is”, she got so excited and steamed it, making it perfect for a wedding.  We proceeded to the flower shop where they made a ring of flowers for my hair and I carried a simple bouquet of tulips.  Robin was wearing his black knife fighting shirt and he put tiki torches in the sand.

It was simple and sweet as we made our vows to each other on Cordova Beach.  I have the rocks we stood on and mixed them with the sand Robin collected from Australia.  We spent the night savoring our secret, then the next morning we phoned everyone as fast as we could so no one heard it from someone else.  May 11th, 1996 I made the vow to Robin to love him 'till death do us part' and I kept my word.  We never did travel around the world together, but he did take me on an adventure of a lifetime.

Espinal to Zubiri - 15.4 km

I headed out early today on my own. Laura is going to be walking approximately 10 km a day. I need to walk at least 20 km a day and I am already behind from only doing 6.5 km yesterday. I donʼt have a watch or a phone so I wake up when the first people begin to make noise.  I am a creature of habit so getting into some sort of routine early will help.  I will start to walk as soon as the first people wake and I will have tortilla and cola cao for breakfast, my routine is beginning to fall into place.   Now all I have to do is walk until I want to stop for the day. 

That doesnʼt seem too hard until I start walking. Even though I am in pain, putting one foot in front of the other is the only option I have at the moment. There are so many pilgrims and so many of them pass me as I am so slow. I knew I was a slow walker but I had no idea how slow. Everyone just zooms past me like I am standing still. Robin used to tease me and say my feet barely pass in front of the each other.  The pilgrims think there is something wrong, that I am injured, I am perpetually responding with, “no this is the way I walk”. I have no blisters or injuries to complain about as I plod along.

There are pilgrims from all over the world and so many different languages. Some people zoom past me with out saying a word and some slow down to my pace to chat a bit.  A normal interaction goes like this,
“Where are you from”, in their mother tongue.
I give them a befuddled look so they resort to the default language of English and ask again.
I respond with, “Canada”.
“Oh so you speak French?”
I embarrassingly say “no”. Luckily most people speak enough English to interact.
“Why are you doing the Camino” they ask. 

This is where I get a pit in my stomach. It is hard to say ʻmy husband diedʼ so I have been saying, “to figure out where the next stage of my life is going”. This is a common answer from people. I am telling the truth, this is why I am here to figure out what I am going to do next; I just neglect to tell them what happened in my life, that brought me to the point, to where I have to decide the new course for my future.

I know the rest of my journey will be solitary as Laura is now far behind me. Everyone I pass or should I say passes me is so nice, however; I have no desire to make friends or meet  people. All I want to do is finish this walk and figure out what to do with my life and go home. As people pass, or after our introduction and brief conversation they say “Buen Camino”, or I say it initially to give them permission to move past quickly.  I know I seem rude but they have many other people that they can meet on this trail other than me. They may have come on the Camino to meet people but I havenʼt.

I get to the albergue early as I can only manage 15.4 km today. The lady in the office tells me in Spanish that they donʼt open until 1:00pm. It takes me awhile to figure out that uno means 1:00pm not 1 Euro for the bed.  There is a nice man from Brazil, who helps with the translation, we wait outside together in silence until it opens. As soon as I get my bed, I take a shower and wash my clothes, then walk around town on my own. 

When I come back there is a couple that are playing the guitar and a flute together in the adjoining gym. I sit back and listen where they canʼt see me, the loving connection between the two of them brings me to tears. You can see they adore each other by the way they look at each other but you can also feel the energy between them.  I feel jealous but happy for them at the same time.   

When I go to bed everyone around me speaks a different language so I donʼt have to talk.  It is comforting to have them around without having to force conversation. A few people come in late, some people want the windows open, some closed, there is about 50 people in the room and many little noises. It feels strange to be sleeping in a room with men and women together. There is a Spanish couple on the next bunk, we smile but canʼt speak each others language.

This experience of walking is so singular and individual.  I want to buy a new camera but at the same time I want to keep this experience to myself and not share it with anyone.  I find it comforting to be in a place where there is no conversation, the silence is soothing.  I wonder how other people feel and what happened in their life to bring them here.  As everyone goes to sleep, I know,  they all have their own thoughts and dreams, each one, with their own book to write.

My Healing - Your Healing - They Are Different

We live, or should I say ‘I’ live, on a small island, named Salt Spring Island, where everyone knows my business. It is so extremely painful to go to the grocery store where I live. I know I will bump into someone and the conversation will go something like this, “I am so sorry to hear about Robin. How are you doing” They look at me empatheticly, then most of the time I get a Salt Spring hug. These people are so nice and sincere and caring but it is so extremely exhausting. Every encounter tears my heart out. I want to stay home and never eat again. People want to come over and bring me food or just be there for me but I want to be alone. I want to have at least one day, even one hour where I donʼt cry. Life feels so painful. I want everyone to go away but at the same time I feel so blessed to have such an amazing support system.

I want this pain to be over so I can get on with my life no matter what that life will be.   I try so hard to see the good that surrounds me and not be so flipping depressed but I hate my life. I have never, ever, hated my life! Even through my hardest times in the past, I could still see the good and right now I canʼt see the good in anything. I know I have so many loving, caring people in my life but I donʼt want them anywhere near me, I just want them to go away. When I interact with people, I am doing it for them, not  for me. Why canʼt they just see that I need space.

Robin was working away from home for the past 5 years so I was home alone the majority of the time.  In contrast for the first 7 years of our marriage, Robin and I worked together, always in each others company, so socializing seperately was a break from the 24/7. Robin and I had a social life in which we rarely shared.  When he died it felt so strange to have other people become such a huge part of "our" relationship.   It was hard being around people who told me what Robin was like to them or how they perceived our relationship.  Everyone views things through their own eyes and I wanted to keep my relationship with Robin to myself because that is how it had always been. 

Robin’s relationships with his friends were totally separate from me, as his conversations and time with them were never shared.  Robin had strong relationships and people that loved him deeply and I wanted to honour those relationships as well. I loved it when Robin came home from work to tell me the fun stories of times he spent with his co-workers and friends.  Robin always made life exciting and memorable and people gravitated to him.   Each persons heart broke when their llife with Robin was forever altered due to his death.  Each person grieved alone, as each had a private relationship with him, but we all had to find away to grieve together and celebrate his life. We had a viewing of Robin's body and I had the funeral director dress him in the same shirt he wore at our wedding.   Then we had a celebration of his life where we all met at the beach in a storm but I'll tell you about that later.  Robin created a wake of love behind him and as a result the grief was also profound.

 After the viewing, Robin was cremated.  I took the sand from our engagement, the rocks from our wedding, and Robin’s ashes;  I lit a candles and mixed them together in my own private ceremony.  A moment I shared alone, with Robin.  I feel blessed to have shared a life with this amazing man and to be honoured with the title of being his wife.

Day Two - May 2nd-Letting Go, Moving Forward

May 2nd - Day 2

When I met Robin he was dating quite a few different women, after about a year of dating, he whittled down his choices to just me.  His motto was, you have to date more than one woman at a time so that you can see who is the best one for you.  I got to be that “one” and we were having a lot of fun together.  I had a dream of sailing around the world so I wasn't being too committal.  I had been telling everyone I met about my dream; my seed sowing paid off; someone needed crew to bring their sailboat from the east coast of Canada around through the Panama Canal and up to Vancouver, and I was asked to join the crew.  

I called Robin and told him I had some good news.  He was excited as he had some good news as well, we met to exchange details.   I was bursting ready to tell him my news and wanted to go first, he, even more excited, said let me go first.   I conceded.  

“I have a break between jobs and I want to take you to Australia to meet my mom.”    

“Wow, no way, well yah of course I want to do that!”  I said excitedly.

“What is your news?”  He asked.

“I got a job on a sailboat” and I told him all the details.  When I get back from Australia I can still do this, I thought to myself.  

We quickly obtained passports and airfares and were on our way to Australia to meet Robin’s mother and stepfather.  After a quick but wonderful visit we headed up to Surfers Paradise to visit my best friend Cindy and her husband Chris.  On our last evening in Australia we all headed to the beach for dinner.  We finished our sunset beach picnic and Robin pulled me away to go for a romantic walk in the moonlight.  I can still hear the surf as it lightly hit the shore accompanied by the squeak of our steps on the fine sand. The night skies were covered in stars that looked so different from our Canadian constellations.    Robin stopped and engraved a big heart in the sand and within the heart he wrote Robin loves Charlene.  Taking my hand he pulled me into the middle of the heart.  He got down on one knee and asked me to marry him.  

Wow, I was in shock.   I said yes and Robin put a sharks tooth necklace around my neck to seal the deal.  I made Robin promise that we would travel around the world on a sailboat together one day.  He agreed as he picked me up and swung me around.  Robin then took some sand from the heart, the Robin, the loves, & the Charlene.  We went back to Cindy and Chris who were waiting for us on the beach and we never said a word, we kept our engagement as a secret just between the two of us.

I still have this sand in a bowl on my dresser. 

Roncesvalles to Espinal - 6.5 km

I was supposed to meet my friend Laura but there is no sign of her.  I woke at 7:30am and we have to be out of the monestary by 8:00am so it doesn't leave me much time to try and connect, so I leave a note for Laura in hopes she will find it.  I am so sore and weak I have no clue how I will make it through the day. The fog has lifted and the weather is nice but my head still feels like a fog.

I ask the volunteer at the monastery where I can obtain breakfast, he directs me to a coffee shop 3.5 km up the path to the next town.  So off I go, I walk and talk to people as they pass but the conversations go in one ear and out the other. I canʼt hear and I canʼt feel anything my body is doing. That really was the hardest hike I have ever done in my life yesterday.  Then to have to go for another walk today....crazy!

As I approach the cafe I run into Laura sitting outside with a group of women enjoying breakfast. I have my first cola cao, (hot chocolate) and tortilla, (a potato omelet).   Laura and I walk for another 3 km together and end up in a little town named Espinal. I am so exhausted all I want to do is to stop. My running shoes are still wet from yesterday.  I wrote a postcard home and this is what it says “As I walk the birds are singing, the church bells ring in the distance which are accompanied by the deeper tone of the cow bells in the fields. All I want to do is lay comatose anywhere till the end of time and listen. The walk did me in yesterday so I just walked 6.5 km today. I am in a lovely hostel in Espinal.” 

After a delightful dinner (wine, bread, cheese and chocolate), Laura I go through my pack to figure out what is not necessary for my journey ahead.   An entry in my journal, “One day in and I can see that I have baggage I need to get rid of. If I am going to make the journey ahead I have to let go of what is heavy and holding me back. I gave Laura a light pair of pants and I left my heavy rain coat that didnʼt do any good. Plus I am leaving Laura behind, she is taking this journey slower so I am on my own from here on in.

Letting Go, Moving Forward

The day Robin asked me to marry him and the day he died are two instances in my life where I thought my life was going in one direction and then in an instant that future changed.  The one that intertwined our lives was far better than the one where Robin left me, I wanted to grow old with this man. When he asked me to marry him, I could say yes or no; when Robin died I had no control. Now I have to make choices and decisions that do not include Robin, I didn’t want my future to change and every decision I make, I felt like I was choosing a life without Robin.  I wanted my life to stay on course and all our future plans to actually happen.  A life with Robin was now impossible and I had to create a new life without him.  It feels like every choice I make, as simple as a meal, leads me further away from Robin.

The days following Robinʼs death were a blur. I couldnʼt tell you who came to see me and who didnʼt, my life was a fog. Every part of me felt exhausted and nothing was in focus. Food was in abundance and I couldnʼt eat. I ate raw vegetables and pizza. I knew I had a long journey ahead of me and my thoughts where not focused beyond my breath. My huge loss was present within every breath I took.

It became instantly apparent who could help me through this journey and who couldnʼt. There are people in my life who gave me energy and there are people in my life who depleated my energy.  It took a lot of stamina to be around people so the only people that I could have around me were people that didnʼt need anything from me. I was raw, with nothing in me to give in the slightest. I had no strength, I was completely emotionally exhausted. Again if I could have just laid comatose till the end of time I think I would have. There was no guide book to pull me forward; I wish there had been. But I knew I just had to take each day as it came, with its pains and joys... but mostly pains.

I left people behind that couldn’t help me move forward to a healthy place.  That sounds so simple but it was excruciatingly hard!  Not just for me but for the people I left behind.  This was my life and my life was already changing so drastically.  To weed people out, no matter how dysfunctional the relationship, made me feel even more vulnerable.  Just because these relationships weren’t healthy didn’t mean they weren’t comfortable.  The people that I distanced myself from did not support my choice to alienate them from my life.  Looking back, they were quite mean to me, especially when I was going through such a hard time.

The same feeling to a lesser degree I feel regarding the articles in my back pack, that I am leaving behind.  These items are the only things I have that are mine.  My whole existence is me and these possessions in my backpack.  Leaving them behind is hard.  There is something inside of me that no matter how hard they make my journey, I want to keep carrying them.  

My ultimate goal is to be healthy and happy and to face life challenges head on.  Letting go and distancing myself from people I love in the process made my future even more undetermined.  But I did it, I left them behind and things felt a little bit lighter.

The man doing the handstand is Robin's dad.

Chapter 1 - May 1st - Day 1

May 1st - Day 1

I woke up this morning, May 1st, in St. Jean Pier de Port, France, eager to start up the Pyrenees.  I have no idea what this journey entails but I think I am ready.  Within the first few steps of this pilgrimage my mind set off, on its own journey.  Instantly the stories of my life with Robin began to circulate, as I begin this path, I remember how my life with Robin first began.

In 1995 I was working in a furniture store in downtown Vancouver.  For entertainment, my co-workers and I would watch the construction workers as they laboured on the high rise building next door.  There was one tall good looking man with long hair that we kept a closer eye on.  His enthusiasm and energy was palpable and his good looks and big smile kept us entertained.

A moment forever etched in my mind occured when this man and I each crossed the road from opposite directions.  As we passed each other in the middle of the road on Cambie and Nelson in Vancouver, his deep brown eyes pulled me in and I knew somehow our futures were interlinked.  That day was over 20 years ago but in this very moment it feels like it happened a moment ago.

A few days after this memerable moment, I again passed him as he was working on the building and our eyes met again. He said in what I thought was an Australian accent, "A news paper has gone awry in front of your store, if you get a bag I will clean it up for you".  I got him a plastic bag and thanked him.  He said, "Anything for you" and quickly left.  I and the other saleswomen giggled and went about our business.

Later that day we saw him approaching the entrance with a rose in hand.  He handed me the rose and said, "In case I never see you again, can I have a hug?"  I gave him a small hug while looking over his shoulder at my co-workers who were smirking.  I learned his name was Robin and I told him my name was Charlene and he was gone in a flash.  Of course I was teased for the rest of the day by my friends.  

I could barely breathe and felt like I was walking on a cloud.  I could not believe the storybook scene that had just transpired in my life. 

St. Jean to Roncesvalles - 24 km

I stayed in an albergue, a hostel for pilgrims, last night so I could get up this morning and start walking. My girlfriend, Laura met me in Marseille a few days earlier, then we took the train and bus to St. Jean, one of the many access points of the Camino.  Laura is taking the bus around the Pyrenees while I walk over them. We were issued our passports yesterday so all I have to do is get up, have breakfast and go. I have done lots of hiking and training so I am not too worried about the walking, what worries me is being away from home for so long.  I am in France and donʼt know any French and will be in Spain tonight and donʼt know any Spanish.  I now wish I would have practiced the languages at least a little.  I have never been to Europe before, actually, I have never been away from home longer than 10 days. I came with my friend Laura, but as she is retired, she can take her time, so I think I will be doing most of this walk on my own. 

The journey ahead is 800 km long. I have a small guide book but no idea where I will stay each night, I have no idea where I am going, and I have no idea how everything will work out, my future is a complete mystery. 

All those worries start to fade as I take my first steps up this very steep grade. Joining me are many other pilgrims on the same journey, I am delighted to be joined with a Canadian family from Vancouver and an American recovering from lung cancer, who speak English.  I realize right away that I am a very slow walker and everyone else has a much faster pace then I do. The passing pilgrims chat briefly with me, then say “Buen Camino” and are on their way.

I feel like I am in a dream as I walk past the vibrant green pastures dotted with cows, horses and sheep, with the sounds of the cow bells chiming at random intervals. I feel elated!  I am actually doing this!  I have started something that I said I would do, I didnʼt just plan an adventure and forget, I am here walking this very minute.

I don't know if I am going to walk the full 24 km over the Pyrenees today or stop at the 9km mark where there is an albergue.  Arriving at the 9 km mark it starts to sprinkle, the cool rain feels refreshing as it hits my hot sweating body, proof of a hard steep climb.  We have already climbed to an elevation of 650 mts in 9 km; we started at 170 m above sea level.  With this accomplishment behind me I feel I am able to get to the next albergue in a monastery in Roncesvalles, no problem. So I continue to climb upwards.

Unfortunatily a storm has begun to hit us hard.  The wind is causing the rain to pelt our faces at a 45 degree angle, prompting everyone to put their tarps on to cover themselves and their backpacks, which have now became kites in the wind, more of a hinderance then a help.  It is cold and in patches there is still snow on the path.  I can see the other pilgrims in the distance transversing up the mountain; the only thought that passes through my mind is, ‘there is no way I will be able to make it to where they are’.  

I reach that exact spot I thought unattainable, I feel a twinge of accomplishment, until I stop and look up to reassess my location.  I thought I must be close to the top of the mountain range. But no!  I see my fellow pilgrims way in the distance, they are continuing to transverse their way further and further into what seems like heaven.  I tell myself if I got here one step at a time, I can get there one step at a time. I feel the pull forward. There is no way I am going to walk back to St. Jean, if I want a bed to sleep in tonight I need to make it to Rosensvallious. 

I notice in the guide book there is a safety shelter, coming up soon, where I can get a break from the weather for a bit and have some of the food I have tucked away in my backpack.  This pulls me forward.  As I see it approaching I can feel the relief in my legs already.  Visualizing taking off my pack and sitting down sounds so lovely.  Relieved to finally get here I open the door to find it so jam packed with pilgrims standing together like sardines, sheltered from the rain, that I can't even fit in the door; so I carry on in the rain and wind.

I have never experienced such a hard hike in my whole...entire... life and I am from Canada, we have some pretty hard hikes.  This is beyond any experience I have ever endured.  My camera has stopped working so I can’t take any pictures to share this personal experience. I stand here looking at my limited view due to the fog, and it hits me. I am here again. Feeling it all over with each breath. I am reliving the hardest day of my life. I am back in the storm. I wanted out then and I want out now, but I know it will take me one step at a time to get me to where I need to go, just as it did when Robin died. 

The pain of everything is hitting me hard. I am in a strange land and territory, I am completely alone, yet surrounded by so many people.  This is uniquely my experience because of what is going on inside of me, not for what was happening outside of me. Every feeling I left home to escape is rushing back. I am on this mountain in the middle of a storm, feeling all the same feelings I left home to escape.

Everything feels hopeless, I don't think I can make it through. There are emergency numbers on posts every 50m or so and I wonder if I am going to be one of the people that needs to phone the emergency number. The only problem is I didnʼt bring any technology with me so how am I going to call if I need help. I am going to have to ask someone to call for me but what if I can’t communicate to them because I don’t know their language?

Why am I doing this to myself!?  Do I like to torture myself?  I did this to heal my pain, not to make it worse. This was a mistake. The only difference about being on this mountain struggling forward is that I have no one else to think about but me. I am on this mountain feeling only my pain.  I thought this would have been easier but it is even harder and I have never felt so heavy.  Every step I take feels impossible with this pack on my back and the storm pushing against my every step.  Every thought that goes through my head weighs me down even further.  I read the guide book, nothing prepared me for the difficulty of this walk. As I continue to trudge on, I make it to the top and my direction heads downwards. There is no celebration, no truimph.  It is very anticlimactic as the downward journey feels harder then the uphill climb, now all the pressure goes to my feet and my knees.    

I can't even tell you how good it feels to see the monastery in the distance but again my pain is not eased on arrival; as I have to wait in line for over an hour, soaking wet.  Upon being assigned a room, they informe me the monestary is full and I am sent to some portables in the woods.  Exhausted I wash my clothes, have a shower in a flooded portable, go to the pilgrims mass, eat dinner, find my bed and instantly fell asleep.

Just breath

The parallel of my two experiences is eerie. I came to see where my life was headed and what I should do next and I have ended up exactly where I started, grieving again. Why? 

At home my job is palliative care, I work with people who are dying and not one of those experiences prepared me for how difficult Robinʼs death would be.  The day he died was absolutely the worst day of my life!  I couldnʼt have been more shocked, in pain, helpless or alone feeling. I was alone even though I was surrounded by so many people.  There were loving supportive people everywhere and I still can not remember who was there doing what, everything was a fog.

Remembering the first moment I looked into Robin's eyes until the moment I heard the news about his death, every memory blended into one big blur that I could not make sense of.  There have been highs and lows within the 18 years that we have been together, each moment now a treasure.  With the shock of Robin's death looming over me, I had no idea how I was going to get through a single moment, let alone a day, or a week, I wondered how I would ever get through this experience.  

The only way I got through, those first days, after Robin’s death, was exactly the way I got through today;  I kept breathing, taking one step at a time, through the mystery of what was becoming.  

Walking Away From A Life I Love - Video