Day 10 - Celebrations Everywhere

May 10th - Day 10

There was always some hair brained idea that Robin would get in his head.  The last one was that he was going to be a YouTube sensation.  He started to do his homework by watching YouTube.  The step in the direction of his dream was to get videos to upload to his channel, and that is when I started to live on egg shells.  I never knew when I was going to be the star of one of his next pranks.  But it wasn't only me though, his coworkers were his main targets most of the time.  Every time he came home with one of his pranks on his camera I helped him edit it and put t up on his Youtube channel.  He never became a celebrity but he was a star not just in my life but so many others.

Working overnights exhausts me.  Arriving home from an especially tiring shift, Robin greeted me at the top of the driveway with one of his loving hugs.  I needed that today, I thought to myself.  I  trudged my way up the ramp to our front door, anticipating my head hitting the pillow.   When I opened the front door, glaring me in the eyes was a wolf! I screamed, turned and ran and in that instant I realized Robin had propped up his wolf skin just to scare me as I was looking directly into his camera.  I screamed at Robin and said, "I don’t want a stuffed wolf in my house".  Oh, he was in trouble.  It is still on Youtube for people to laugh at my misfortune. 

Robin had a movie star quality about him.  We were on the ferry headed to Vancouver and there was a couple who had just spent the weekend on Salt Spring.  They loved it and said they couldn’t believe how many well known artists, writers, actors and such lived on the island.  Then the lady looked at Robin and said, “and who are you?”  Robin's reply was awash with boldness and unrepentant pride.  "I am the garbage man."  He worked at the transfer station at the time, and as you can imagine, he was delighted with his own response.  

Najera to Santo Domingo - 21.0 km

I woke up early due to someoneʼs alarm going off and alerting all 90 of us.  After pulling my things together, I start in the dark and there is a steep hill right away. The path is difficult to see so it takes my mind off the steepness and I focus on watching for signs to direct my way. Christian passes me as we climb the hill like he is not even climbing a hill.  He got up at the same time as me due to the alarm but he takes longer to get walking as he has a hot oatmeal breakfast. I eat my fruit while I walk so I can leave as soon as I am packed.  I think I do this so I don’t have to talk to people in the morning, mornings seem to be hard, I cry a lot. I wish I would stop crying. I wish my mind could break free of the thought of loosing Robin and start to think about why I am here and what am I going to do with the rest of my life? But no, I canʼt think about that, so all I do is cry and walk.  I am seriously tired of all this crying.

When I get to the first town for my second breakfast of, potato omelet and hot chocolate, I see Christian outside the cafe. Iʼm almost up to talking so sit with him after receiving my order. “How is your morning?” he asks. 

“Oh I think too much” I tell him, “I wish I could be like you and not think and just enjoy the moment.” I can feel my eyes start to get teary. 

“Today I think about my family and how much I love them”, Christian says.

“You are lucky” I say, as I excuse myself to the bathroom.  I could feel the tears coming and I didn’t want him to see or know of my grief.

Holding myself together I come back to don my backpack. Christian asks me, “Are you thinking of your man?”. I immediately start to cry. I nod yes and leave before he can see how much I am crying. Luckily no one is around as I cry, and I cry more as I walk. I guess Bianca had told Christian that my husband had died, which is easier as I didʼt have to, but it is hard to face the reality of my life. The crying is cleansing but it sure isnʼt fun. I am walking with my head down as Christian catches up to me.  He asks me how my husband died. I tell him through my tears but it feels good to start to tell people my story.  Christian walks on and my head focuses again to my feet as I watch the ground where I step, oblivious to my surroundings. After awhile I look up and see there are hot air balloons in the distance dotting the blue sky over the red poppy fields. It is very beautiful, and I am missing out by not looking up.

It feels like a long walk into town. It is made easier with conversation from the Spaniard named Jose, the brother of the brother/sister who has joined me. It really does make it easier to walk and talk, the time does go quicker and keeps my mind busy. Jose is patient as his sister Marianna is also a slow walker like me. When we get to the albergue, Christian is first in line at the parish run by nuns. It looks like there isnʼt many people in line but there is a regiment from the UK and the sergeant in front of me is holding all 14 of the soldiers passports and pilgrims passport.  I have my doubts bt thankfully end up with one of the 33 beds. Jose goes to look for Marianna at the municipal and ends up staying at that albergue instead. Right behind me comes Mary, a New Zealander, whom I had dinner with her the first night in Roncesvalles. We get a room together in the convent with only 3 beds in one room.  This is a rare luxury. An Australian woman joins us, so we have a comfortable room with all women, we can get dressed and undressed, right in our room.  It feels so freeing, plus there is the added bonus of no snorers, or so they said.

After our routine of washing, Mary and I head out toand since this is where we are, there is a big festival. People are dressed and dancing, enjoying a huge street party in the square. It is very apparent that order is not the goal; there are many bands playing at the same time, people trying to sing louder then the next group, spraying water at each other and 10 foot tall puppets parading through the crowd. As we approach the church we see, there is a bull pulling a cart with branches.  The priest blesses them with holy water, then the elders each take a branch and carry it into the church. Next, the bull and its cart are escorted away by prancing dancers clanging bells in their hands.

Standing eventually becomes an effort, so we sit and have a drink. I wondered how the towns people have so much energy to jump up and down and dance but then I remember they havenʼt walked 21 km today. I have to leave to go have a nap, and even with the boisterous festivities outside I sleep well; I seem to sleep better during siesta then at night, I have no idea why.  

Today is Mother's Day in Canada, so after siesta Mary and I walk around town looking for a phone. My thoughtful daughter had given me a letter and pictures to open on Motherʼs Day, so I wanted to phone her and my mom. It is Sunday in the middle of a festival, but we find a place, it is meant to be. Then we meet Cheryl later for dinner and indulge in a pilgrims meal. It is good but honestly ... it isnʼt anything to write home about, it is just better then other ones. Cheryl seems very bitter from her divorce, she asks me if I have a partner, to which I replied “no” and in a very cold manner she asks if I am divorced too. I say, "no my husband died" and she says sorry. The contrast between a divorce and a death seems so huge in the way it effects a person. I was loved and the relationship ended with love but Cheryl  seems so resentful and angry that her relationship ended; very sad. 

I head back to the albergue and before I go to bed I seek out Christian to say “Thank-you” for listening to me while I cried. It seems so strange that someone who doesnʼt understand much of what I say can be so comforting. I guess it is the importance of saying it, and not whether anyone actually understands what I am saying. For whatever reason it feels healing and I am happy to be in this town with these people, who are becoming my friends through each passing conversation. 

Celebrations Everywhere

Everyone else’s lives go on.  As I watched the celebrations in the square I got caught up in the enthusiasm.  It was wonderful to see everyone so happy and full of life.  There were so many people laughing and having fun and I am sure many people in the crowd had pain and suffering in their lives and yet they are here, so full of life.  I didn’t want to miss out on life’s joys because I have lost my partner.  Especially since the person I lost was so full of life, remembering him with sadness does not seem appropriate.

Everything, anyone, did with Robin was turned into a celebration of that day.  The people around him were all actors in the movie he was creating.  I was no longer the actor in his movie and I felt almost insulted when people saw me as an available actor for their life.  I didn’t like the script of their lives, I had enjoyed the script of my own life.  I didn’t want a new role.  I enjoyed the role I was in and I loved the director, Robin Guy Gibbard.  

I am fortunate, as I am a person who lives very much in the moment, I guess that is why Robin and I were a good match. The problem is when I am in the moment right now, in my grief, I feel there is no end in sight. I feel like I am going to be grief stricken forever. Every moment is an eternal moment. I like to be positive and see what is good in each moment but it is so extremely hard. I feel this huge absence in my life and it feels like such a huge hole that will never ever be filled. I have no faith in my future. 

So many people around me are so willing to take me into their lives, support, take care of, enjoy, but I feel the urge to push everyone away right now as I try and figure out what I want this next movie of my life to look like.  I had to eliminate people from my life who took ownership of my path.  Maybe they felt they were rescuing or helping me but to me it felt like they were kidnapping me.

Some people felt that I should be getting a WCB claim from Robin but I knew that this would not be an easy journey.  The last thing I felt like doing was reliving the worst day of my life again and again.  This was far from putting me on a path of healing.  I was the only one who could feel what was right for me, on my journey.  People that thought they were trying to help or rescue me, caused more pain then help.

I have no idea where my life is going or what I am doing, but I am determined to create my own course, lead by my own internal guidance system.  No one but me can feel my intuition.

Day 9 - Everything Has It's Place To Help Me Through

May 9th - Day 9

Testing Our Friendship

How did Robin and I know we were right for each other?  About 6 months after our initial meeting with the rose we became friends and would spend a lot of time together.  We both would warn each other of how annoying our previous partners would get with us.  So we decided to put the relationship to the test and we headed out on a camping trip for a weekend.  We rented a van, and ventured off on a logging road towards Squamish.  We found a perfect spot in the woods where Robin could set up his targets and shoot.  It had snowed, so we cleared a spot and put down a tarp.  On top of that we put a mattress with ample blankets, then another tarp we hung from the trees to keep us dry.  Robin then put all the army men (targets) in the woods and we began to shoot them with his air gun.
  

Robin made a delicious meal on his tiger torch stand of bacon and beans.  As the sun went down he put candles in the bush with raw eggs in front of them to eluminate the targets.  It was so much fun shooting at and hitting the raw eggs and watching them explode highlighted by the candle behind them, it looked like an art exhibit.  We ate stews and shot the targets in the trees all weekend long.

Two days later on the way we stopped at a restaurant smelling so much of campfire that the waitress commented.  From this day every time we smell of a smoke we remind each other of that initial camping trip where we learned that we both could handle being with each other for an extended period of time. Having a campfire was a very common occurance in our relationship, it was one of those things that brought us together and kept us connected.   

Logrono to Najera - 30.1 km

I sit down and relax every day to write in my journal forgetting how much pain I am in during the day. So Iʼll write it right away before I forget. I am in pain all the time. Every part of me is sore. As I lay in bed I feel like there is no way that I can walk tomorrow because I am in too much pain. When I wake, it feels like a miracle, I actually feel up to walking. The body's ability to repair itself amazes me. It is like a miracle is happening to me everyday.  Not just I feel this way as I hear it from so many pilgrims who are astonded when their bodies actually work and they can walk again for another day.

My day started around 5:00. It is strange how a city has a way of making you hate it when you get lost in it, in the darkness. The signage was horrible. Luckily there were drunk Spaniards still roaming the streets from their parties the night before. I would only go 2 blocks without a sign before turning back and retracing my steps.  It was just so frustrating trying to find the signs. My perception of Logrono totally changed after this difficult exit.

I had planned my route for the day and I am not going to go the full 30.1 km everyone else is walking. I am going to make my life easier, get rid of some of this pain and focus on myself instead of meeting people. I am good at going off on my own and doing my own thing. I donʼt need people around me to make this journey enjoyable; they can actually they make it less enjoyable, because saying good-bye is so painful. I am not going to get to know these people over the next 20 days and then have to say good bye. I am going my own way.

Christian passes me, we hadnʼt seen each other the previous night so we fill each other in on the albergues we each stayed at. His sounded really nice but I was glad I stayed with Diana and Bianca. I learned what I needed to learn and that was to continue on my own. I said “Buen Camino”, he said “Buen Camino”. It felt sad saying good bye I probably will never see him again. It is strange that I hardly know these people and good byeʼs were so hard. Probably because we are sharing such a unique experience, these are the few people who will ever understand my journey. The sign said the village was in 1 km and this is where we will be parting my ways.

I walked and walked what felt like forever. I told myself they must have meant 1.9 km and just put 1 km. This last km of the day is really doing me in. I was relieved to see a large building approaching when Marco, an Italian photographer, passed me.  I pointed to the large building approaching telling him I was going to be staying there and wouldnʼt be going to Najera for  the night. We said “Buen Camino” and he walked on. As I got closer to the building there was no town surrounding it, I looked everywhere for an entrance to the building and none. I got out my book to see if it could give me a better idea of where I was going. The guide book said that the way is a little confusing and often missed. Marco was stopped taking photos of the vineyard and said that we had about another 8 km to Najera.  Obviously I missed my destination, I decided to continue forward rather then go back 2-3 kms. Strangely all of a sudden I started to feel more energized and my step quickened proceeding to the next village. As much as I didnʼt want to see the familiar faces I felt the pull of this Camino family.

Arriving into town I ran into a fellow pilgrim from Vancouver who said the municipal was full. A fellow pilgrim was just passing and heard as well so we quickly walked to the parish albergue to secure a bed there. When we arrived at the parish the volunteer said it was full. The man I was walking with motioned to sit on the bench outside and he proceeded to phone different places to stay. I just casually sat there and let him take control of the situation. A little while later the lady said there was again room in the line up. The albergue wasnʼt full just the line up to get into the room to register, so my bed was obtained. I found my bed and became worried as the bunk beds were right beside each other, my bed companion would be laying right next to me. I was hoping it would be a female. I had a shower and then went to wash my clothes where I ran into Christian. He was surprised to see me and I told him how I missed the town. 

On returning to my bed I was relieved to find that my bed companion was Margaret the German I had met a few days earlier. Then Lea another traveller I see a lot was above me, the familiar faces started to appear there was Marco and Stephen and Joanna and G and Christian and Petra and Margaret and Marianne and Jose. I was happy to see everyone, but still went off on my own to enjoy the town. I didnʼt want to open up to them, I wanted to stay in my cocoon of protection.

I found the church and mass had already begun so I slipped in the back. Older Spanish ladies were coming in and out of the church whispering to each other. All of a sudden one of the ladies started to yell at the priest and then she left. The other women still went in and out. Even though I didnʼt know what was going on I slipped out with a chuckle and left them to their own drama. Later that evening I ran into a pilgrim, Martin from Germany, whom had been in the church at the same time. He stayed the entire service and said it got even worse. She was yelling and the priest who stayed very stoic. With a better understanding of Spanish, Martin said that the problem the lady was having was that he started mass early. So funny!

I chose a restaurant that serves spaghetti with meat sauce and hamburgers. I'm having the spaghetti, feeling a little guilty for eating North American food in Spain but it is a nice relief from the pilgrims meals or a baguette and fixings. The albergue is on the river so I sit and write in my journal on the grass beside it and it feel the calm. I could see the albergue from where I sit and it was nice seeing the familiar faces coming and going. I am glad I am here they are not so bad. I was in the albergue with 90 other people in one room, it was hot and noisy so I didnʼt get much sleep but their familiar annoying noises sound strangely comfortable. 

Everything was in its place to help me through

The sequence of events that happened before Robin died that helped me through this process I find miraculous. I was already doing things and had a sound grounding in many activities and beliefs that gave me strength that I didn't even know I had.  Some started when I was young when I was given a strong grounding in my beliefs.  My family and extended family never modelled to me any fear of death.  I always knew it was a process of living and our spirits were eternal.  The job I had chosen for myself  was a home support worker, which lead me to doing palliative care as an occupation.  I helped people through the dying experience.  I have always felt honoured to share this space with people.  It is a very sacred time and I feel very priveliged that I can be there to help and support families through this process.  I read a book "Dying to be Me" by a woman who had a near death experience.  This book profoundly effects how I feel about death and have no fear of the process.

I have had life experiences that helped me get through this experience with more strength.  Even the simple ones, like when our dog died suddenly.  I knew I could get through that experience, and I will get through this experience.  Our house was sold so we were renting and living in a very healing space.  A home that Robin didn't spend lots of time at so I don't have reminders of him wherever I look.  I was reunited with my daughter whom I adopted out at birth and she had a son whom brings so much light to all our lives. Robin had developed a strong lasting bond with both of them before he died and I am sure it will last a life-time for them both.


I had already been doing activities before Robin's death that made a huge impact in how I navigated myself through this healing process.  I was participating in and attending a "Year to Love" with Ahava Shira, a journalling a writing program.  I was also registered and participating in Brene Brown's Art Journalling Class.  I had signed up and was training for the Tough Mudder and I had already planned on doing the Camino with my friend Sam.

The biggest part of my past that is helping with my present is the strength in the relationships I have around me.  I am so blessed with an amazing family.  I have good friends here on Salt Spring but most of all I have life long friends that have been here walking this journey with me.  I bless my past as it strengthens my present.  Whenever Robin and I would smell like campfire, the memory of that initial camping trip would come back to remind us that we were meant to be together.  I love past memories that give strength and momentum to present moments, they feel like little bits of magic.

A page from my art journalling class with Brene Brown.

Day 8 - Feeding the Giant

May 8th - Day 8 

Feeding the Giant

You know when you first fall in love with someone there is that thing you love ... that draws you into your partner?  That thing that pulls you in and you believe it is the best thing in the world?  Then years into the relationship all of a sudden that thing that you loved so much becomes the thing you hate.

Well that thing with Robin was his complete passion and love of life and his complete and utter ability to live in the moment.  I so loved this about Robin.  I had never met anyone like him!  When he smoked he did it passionately and enjoyed every last puff on his cigarette to the fullest, so much so that it made me want him to smoke, and I HATE smoking.  When you put food that he loves in front of him he devoured it with such enthusiasm and appreciation you just wanted to keep feeding him.  Everyone loved feeding Robin.  His zest for life was addictive to everyone around him.  

We were eating a seafood buffet on a visit to The Sirloiner at Granville Island and Robin was enjoying his muscles after he dipped each in butter.  He used no utensil; he got right in there with his hands. There were no manners diverting him from his pleasure.  A young woman came up and said my Grandpa would love to see you eat because you eat so passionately. He was a site to see, as anyone who knew him could agree and everyone has dozens of eating and food stories about Robin.  

The only difference with being with someone like this as your partner, is that very soon after I moved from, enjoying eating with Robin, into having to feed Robin.  These are two totally different situations.  There were times we went to other people's houses and I could see how much pleasure they received from having him enjoy their meal, that it again brought me pleasure.  But the day in and day out of having to feed him was exhausting.  The dishes, the pots and pans but especially the money, it was expensive.  Plus, as much as he worked and earned, his day to day living expenses always exceeded his income thus digging into my income.  This I began to hate.  As much as his happiness made me happy I didn't feel it was fair that it took away from my enjoyment in life, as I had things I was passionate about as well.  

Robin and I were married and I wanted to stay married and we couldn't do that if I was perpetually resentful.  So I created boundaries.  He had to cook a lot of his own meals and clean up after himself, even if that  meant leaving the dishes for a day before he cleaned them. If I had to make a meal I also had to be able to eat it without gaining 10 pounds, low fat was not in Robin's vocabulary.  I recently put him on a $15 a day budget.  Believe me he hated this one.  For me to love Robin I had to put up boundaries that protected our relationship.  He did this as well for me, my issues are ... well... I’ll just keep those to myself. 

Los Arcos to Logrono - 28.6 km

I was awakened when the first person woke up. I gather my stuff together and begin my morning routine. As I am leaving I look at the clock on the wall and it is 3:30. I guess I had gotten up at 3:00. I see the man who had gotten up causing me to rise and he is doing his devotional. Oh well, I am up, I might as well start walking. The white clay path is eliminated by the full moon and the stars seemed so bright. The constellations seem more pronounced then at home and easier to identify. I could have been a pilgrim walking this path 1000 years earlier and right now, under the stars, I look exactly the same. I only pass one man with his two dogs. He is more startled to see me then I am to see him. Walking all alone under the stars just me and my thoughts makes this one of my most memorable walks on my pilgrimage so far.  I feel back to living in the moment, right now I realize I haven't thought of anything unhappy. I feel at one with the universe. I feel small and big both at the same time.

Well it is easy to get through Viana before Shylo caught up with me due to my early departure. This alone made it all worth the early start. As I exit the city Bianca and Diana catch up with me. They are the first people that pass me. I am sure others did on my morning pit stops but I didnʼt notice anyone. It is the perfect place to meet up as we have to pass a herd of sheep being corralled on the path, very picturesque. The sisters walk with me for a bit but my slow pace is too hard for them. They say they are staying at the municipal in Logrono so I said I will see them there.

I am tired today as this is the longest distance I have walked in one day, that,  and I have been up since 3:30. I see Bianca and Diana and have my shower and then go for an early siesta. On the next bunk over I meet Marianna and her brother Jose, they are from Spain and very friendly. I am too tired to talk though, but I am sure I will meet them again in the future.  

I told Bianca I would meet them at 6:00. I wanted to go for dinner with them as this was their last night on the Camino. They are doing it in chunks and will come back next year on their vacation together, to do another leg of the journey. I had only spent one day with them, but am feeling sad they were leaving. They wanted to meet with the others to say goodbye, but no one was staying at the albergue we were at.  When I woke from my siesta I am so tired, I wish I hadnʼt said I would go for dinner. I wanted to sleep and sleep. But I got up and Bianca was on a mission to find out where Klaus, Linda, Anna, Petra, Margaret and Christian were. I said I would go check out the parish and they would try and connect on their phones.  

At the parish I couldnʼt find a way in, so I head back, and on the side of the road were two teen boys trying to get a sleeping mattress over a wall into a courtyard. One of them had a broken leg with a cast, so I thought it would be good for me to help. But even with my help they couldnʼt get the mattress over the wall so they rolled over a large garbage container to stand on. The two boys, even the one with the broken leg, stood on the unsteady container, I handed them sticks and poles to help leverage the mattress over. They spoke Spanish, I spoke English and we didnʼt understand each other at all. I asked them why they didnʼt wait until they had the key for the door but they didnʼt understand so I continued to help. They finally got it over and we cheered triumphantly. As I walked away I realized they were probably two street kids and this is where they were going to sleep, in a vacant courtyard, on a old used mattress. I think I am an accomplice to them squatting there this evening.

When I got back to the albergue, the sisters had not connected with anyone so we just wandered the streets of Logrona looking for a place to eat. We bumped into Klaus and Linny and Anna and another German. This made Bianca happy to say goodbye. It was strange walking the streets in pursuit of someone elseʼs goal. I did enjoy myself but there was a tug a war inside me each time I did things with other people. Especially people who were leaving. I felt like, what was the point of pursuing their quests and building a relationship when they are about to leave? I had only met Bianca and Diana the day before, so this is only the second day with them and I am already missing them. I hate living someone elseʼs agenda but I also hate saying good bye.

I said it before but I will say it again. This is my journey. I am not going to make it about other people. I am going to make it about myself. I am not going to go the full distance tomorrow. I am going to stop early at a little town. This isnʼt about making friends, it is about healing my heart and figuring out what I am going to do with my own life. This is about me not “them”. whoever “them” is! 

Now I’m Angry - Compromise

Someone asked me if I was sad that Robin and I never had children, now that he has died. I responded with, “I am not sad, I am angry". We always did things the way Robin wanted and now 3 months after I have a hysterectomy he goes and dies. Robin had such a strong personality and I was more easy going so most of the time our life goals revolved around Robinʼs desires. Donʼt get me wrong, I went along because I enjoyed his passions but now he was dead, what did I have to show for going along with all the things he wanted? I feel angry! Very angry!!

I had been married to Robin for 18 years, and now I am here on my own having to take care of myself. I hated it! When he was alive I would get so mad at him for drinking and smoking and for his extremely poor diet. I would cry and say you are going to leave me here alone. And that is exactly what he did. I am here alone. I am angry and I am sad. 

I am tired about talking to people about the sadness of Robin dying.  They will always be just sad as he was a sliver in their life.  Most people never got the short end of the stick with Robin as for them he was all fun and games.  His poor choices did not affect them, they affected me!  It is Robin’s fault he is dead, he was completely stupid and irresponsible.  

Do you want to hear how this stupid husband of mine died.  Well you know that dreadful coffee sludge he drinks?  Well he thought he was drinking his coffee and he drank degreasing fluid instead.  He and his coworkers phoned poison control and he threw it up.  Then he did nothing.  He didn’t go to the doctor.  He was getting tired so he took a day off.  He went to town to get supplies and even was on the same road as the hospital.  He went back to the camp and still wasn’t feeling well and he went to bed.  In the morning he had collapsed and brought to the hospital. That evening he died.

Who drinks degreasing fluid and dies?  He never filled out any forms, he never went to the doctor, he never did anything to help me.  I am not just mad, I am furious.  I am here alone and it is all his fault!

Day 7 - Creating a Routine

May 7th - Day 7

Eating the ship dry

I have always lived my life with a plan, an agenda. Robin would bug me about my over planning but I secretly think he loved it. He liked to know what was going to happen. For our 10 year anniversary we went on an Alaskan Cruise. A month before our departure I informed him of our daily schedule. He said, “Can we wait till we are at least, on the cruise to make a schedule?” But we had a great time! 

Our schedule evolved quickly upon boarding the ship.  The day started by getting up and having a small breakfast, Robin had smoked salmon (a whole plate) and freshly squeezed orange juice, I just had orange juice. Then we would go for a work-out in the gym. Next we would have a full breakfast in the full service dining room. After which we would explore the town or some entertainment on the boat. Following that we went to the full service restaurant for lunch. I would have one meal and Robin would have 2. We would do more exploring then go for an early dinner in the buffet restaurant. I would have a sampler plate so I knew what to order for dinner and Robin would have a selection of different plates of food. We would then head to the pool for a dip where we would have silly races, such as who can get across the fastest walking backwards. We were entertainment for the older passengers that walked the decks in the cold brisk air but didnʼt think of getting their feet wet. Robin loved the fact that he could put his ashtray next to the pool and smoke and swim at the same time. Then we would go get dressed in our cabin and prepare for our formal dinner. It felt nice to get dressed up and the food was phenomenal. After the meal was the live entertainment and it always guaranteed to astound us. It was a memorable trip and our routine made the experience even fuller.  On the 7 day cruise Robin ate 122 plates of food.  He kept a log, here is a section of his documentation.

So as you can well assume, if I plan a simple holiday, I am guaranteed to plan a funeral. Yes, I had Robinʼs funeral planned and as I added or deleted things I would always go over with Robin what he wanted and didnʼt want.  Every single part of Robin's funeral was chosen by him when he was alive.  He loved planning his funeral.  

Robinʼs funeral was epic. I always thought Robinʼs funeral was a fun party to plan so I always discussed with Robin what he wanted. So every last detail, (other then the tattoo booth set up by Robinʼs best friends son, Dominic) Robin knew what was going to happen. We had a huge bonfire at the beach with music and pictures of Robin and guns and flaming bow and arrows and our friend sang, “My Heart Will Go On”, exactly the way Robin wanted. And guess what it poured rain. When people went home there was a snow storm in parts and the wind was horrific. When they took the ferry home the next day there was such a huge storm that people were advised to stay in their seats and the ones getting up were the ones running to the bathroom to throw up. The weekend like I said was completely epic. So many people came up to me and said what a fantastic memorial it was at it was so Robin. It was because Robin planned it. I couldnʼt have asked for a better day. Even Robinʼs mother-in-law said that she came thinking it was going to be a horrible experience and she had such a fun weekend. Robin was fun, Robin was an experience like no other. I am so fortunate to have been married to him. 

Estella to Los Arcos - 21.1 km

I started about 5:00, ensuring I wasnʼt walking in the sun. Half an hour in I made a stop at a 24 hr. gas station to get some sunscreen. I didnʼt want to repeat yesterdays problems.  The weather was on my side and is rather cloudy with a cool breeze, a perfect reprieve from yesterday’s sun.

My path today consisted of gradual up and downs and then through pastures. At the top of one of the hills there was a vender selling his wares on the side of the road. I purchased a wooden cross for Xavier. As I walked away I was overcome with grief. I cried and cried as I remembered my life with Robin when we used to sell his artwork. It was many lifetimes ago but wonderful memories that I had with Robin that now make me feel sad. It is strange how the memories of my life with Robin come back so easily in this foreign land.

Today was a very smooth path giving me lots of time to think. Some thoughts made my walk harder and some lightened my step. I thought of the people and things that I loved. Like a tap being turned on I began to cry again for no reason at all, with my head down not even noticing the amazing landscape I was walking in. The tears needed to flow but I feel like they are never going to stop. I came here to escape and run away from my grief but it followed me and gives me no relief. I am feeling proud of myself as no familiar faces have passed me, so I must be walking faster. Maybe all the tears have quickened my step.

As I walked into the town that is going to be my home for the night it feels like I was walking into the wild west. I can hear the theme song from the movie “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly” playing in my head. But then as I enter the city square it is full of people. I stopped at the first albergue I come to but it was already full. I found the municipal, no one can make a reservations as it is first come first serve and there is room. I began to recognize faces, I guess I had been passed. I made my way to the shower and Christian already showered and doing laundry. I felt deflated. I wasnʼt as fast as I thought I was. I guess many had passed me as I stopped for my shopping or bathroom breaks. I guess I was meant to be alone with my tears today.

I set about my afternoon to take a shower. Actually my routine seems to be pretty set as follows: 

- I get up early and carry my back pack and sleeping bag out of the bunk bed area. 

- I have a separate bag for my toiletries and can just place that on the top of my packed back pack after brushing my teeth then brushing, braiding and pinning up my hair. 

- I get changed into my walking clothes, take my bed clothes off and pack them in the compression sacks with my sleeping bag. 

- I don my back pack over the many layers of clothing. 

- I get my flashlight out and figure out which directions the signs point me, repeating at every intersection. 

- As I walk I drink my water with vitamin C powder and I eat my apple, my orange and banana, when the first open cafe comes along I have a cafe coa (hot chocolate) and a tortilla (potato omelet). Then I fill up my water bottles and carry on after taking a bathroom break. 

 - When the sun comes out I stop and put on some sunscreen and have a bit of chocolate for a snack or a granola bar. 

- As the morning passes I usually come to another cafe where I have freshly squeezed orange juice and a Napoleon (pastry filled with chocolate). I fill my water bottles again and head off.

- I walk now until I get to the town that I will call home for the night.  Here I pull out my guide book and see the different available accommodations and choose one, I find a place that has a bed available. To this point I have only stayed at Municipals, parishes or convents. All these are first come first serve. Some people reserve their accommodations but as I donʼt have a phone  I can not do this. After waiting in line, I pay and then find my bed.

Then starts my afternoon routine: 

- I take a shower and put on my evening outfit.

- I hand wash my clothes, hang them to dry, brush my hair 

- Then I go for a siesta. I am really beginning to love my siesta. Everything is closed as everyone is having a siesta so there is no point in trying to get anything.  

- When I wake and write in my journal, then town starts to wake. 

- I go grocery shopping. I buy a baguette, cheese and pepperoni, an apple and an orange for breakfast, chocolate and granola bar. Sometimes I get strawberries or other treats from the store. 

- Depending on the town I usually fit mass in about now.

- I sometimes go for dinner after mass or if I am too tired the baguette with cheese and pepperoni is my dinner. 

- After dinner I come back I get everything packed except for my sleeping bag. I get my day clothes from the line and put them in the bag with my toiletries. 

- I get my sleeping clothes on and pack up everything other then my sleeping bag and clothes and go to bed.

This is my routine and in this I find much comfort. The people that I need to meet cross my paths when they are supposed to, I do not make plans to meet anyone or even ask people where they are staying, it is always by chance when I meet people again.  I do feel like I am living in faith as I live within my routine this gives me comfort. There is so much unknown in my life but knowing my routine makes me feel safe. 

Now back to my day.

I had a siesta and didnʼt have to grocery shop as I had food from the previous day as I went to bed without eating much. As I exited the albergue there was a nice grassy area where Christian was sitting with two Dutch women, the Dutch women looked familiar as they passed me walking and we talked briefly but had never been introduced. Bianca and Diana are sisters with whom I instantly feel a connection. They are so nice and they all talk English so I feel included, I feel so inferior as English is my only language.  They go from person to person changing language to language.

While Christian was napping on the lawn and Diana was reading I talked to Bianca. She asked me why I was doing the Camino and I felt comfortable enough to tell her that my husband had died. She asked me how I was doing and I started to cry saying that I have good days and bad days, but today was an exceptionally hard day. With few words from Bianca I felt understood and no need to say more. Bianca is a physiotherapist who does alternative therapies, I told her she had to come visit me on Salt Spring as she would fit in perfectly. The one thing that I feel is her lightness of being which emanates love.

I thought I would miss home. I thought I would get so home sick being in a foreign land that I never knew the language. But I am here and my thoughts rarely go to home. I feel the love but I have no longing to go home. Home is so different now. It is not something that beckons me. I feel the loss of Robin in everything there but I also feel it here. Will I ever be happy again? Ever?  But here I can think only of myself and only on my own journey. I know I need to be here. I need to be feeling and dealing with this pain. I know I need to let the tears role even if I donʼt know where they come from.

Bianca, Diana and Christian invite me to come for tapas with them before dinner. I decline as I havenʼt written in my journal yet and my conversation has been quite over stimulating and I need some alone time to regroup. I head to a little bar on a side street where there are no patrons. I get a glass of red wine and sit and write in my journal. I wrote about Bianca saying “what a wonderful angel the Camino brought me today” I am learning every single person with whom I cross paths with is who I am supposed to encounter. As I am on no one elseʼs agenda but my own I feel every person I encounter is sent especially for me, from God. I am thankful I am a solo walker.

Walking around town I run into Bianca, Diana and Christian again who are sitting with other pilgrims. I sit with them and I tell the girls how I met Christian and how he said I looked like I had to go to the toilet and he said I looked older then I am. We laughed. Actually everything Christian says makes me laugh as the language barrier makes him extremely honest and blunt. I havenʼt laughed like this in a long time. They invite me to dinner and I said of course as they made me feel happy from laughing. As we were walking to the restaurant we met up with Shylo and he joined us for dinner. Shylo wears a tank top exposing his nipples, (not on purpose). Christian says, “I recognize you from walking, I see you and your tits” See no holding back. We all laughed. We said Shylo looked like meatloaf and from then on he went by meatloaf. They made me laugh and laugh all of them. It was so much fun, I was now crying because I was laughing so hard.  This is a way better reason to cry. 

Then we quickly got our desert and ate it as we headed to mass. Shylo hadnʼt been to mass in a long time, Christian gave him his sweater to cover his nipples in church, how can you not be in stitches laughing. I love pilgrims mass, I have no idea what the priest is saying but it feels so healing.  As we leave, a pilgrim, training to be a tenor, sings Ava Maria from the balcony of the church. We were in tears, it was magical.

Then we met a bunch of other pilgrims in the square for drinks and tea. Here I saw Margaret again and met Petra. Shylo entertained us all. Everyone was deciding where they were going to walk to. I wasnʼt planning on walking as far as Bianca, Diana, Christian, Petra and Margaret but Shylo was going to be going where I was going Viena. He started to make plans with me and they saying I was going to be in Finistar with him and fly me to South Africa where he was from. This all started to freak me out. Friends were ok and comfortable but beyond that felt extreme. I decided in my head  then and there that I was going to be walking further. I decided I would never tell people my plans again. Having to meet people at certain places felt too restraining. This was my journey. I didnʼt want to share it with anyone.

Start with a routine

I am trying to figure out if I am going to stay on Salt Spring or move to the city, Victoria or Vancouver. I struggle so much with the pain of living on a small island, I feel as everyone knows my business but when I leave and come back I love this place I call home. Even with the pain, I feel this place represents who I am with its alternative beliefs and like minded people. Everyone is excepted for who they are and their differences are embraced.  This is a very unique place and I don't want to run away from it just because I am in a hard place emotionally.

At home I have a routine and that routine is work all the time other then the two days that I take care of my grandson in Victoria. I fill my time with working so I donʼt have too much time to spend thinking. I am fortunate to be invited to visit many of my friends but socializing is very hard.  My spare time is spent at home or I go for a walk or a swim. I have joined master swimming as being in water always makes me feel connected to my source, water is my oasis.  I think our childhood is a place we play in all our lives.  I am fortunate that when I was young my parents supported my involvement in sports. I was a competitive swimmer. I have always turned to the water when I am going through a hard time or any kind of exercise so this is a very positive coping mechanism.  Plus my parents were always taking us to the ocean and vacations on lakes.

My negative coping is working. I work too much and donʼt give myself time to think when life is overwhelming and that is what I have been doing, working, working, working. I put a note on my Facebook saying I was ready to go back to work and I got so much response and offers resulting in 3 different jobs plus I teach first aid classes. I am working 40 -80 hours a week.

I would use work when I was younger to get away from home. I never dealt with my family dynamics I just worked. It was my drug so I am fortunate I enjoy my jobs. After  Robin died I didnʼt work for 4 months because I had absolutely no choice. I couldnʼt function at a job. I would cry all the time. On my journey so far I walk all day and canʼt even do this without crying. I cry because I miss Robin. I cry because I get triggered of memories and things that remind me of Robin and I just cry for no reason. The tears just flow.  My thoughts never seem to stop.  

The only other way I get an oasis from my tears is to laugh.  I am fortunate at home to have old friends.  Not in age but friends that have been in my life since before Robin.  They know exactly how to make me laugh.  I have friends that I can call on any time of the day.  Some in the middle of their work and one friend I talk to till 3 in the morning sometimes.  Laughing is a wonderful magic pill that helps me escape the sadness.

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.