Day 35:Santiago de Compostela
Well, here I am in the city that, for many, is the final destination whether on the Camino Frances, Camino del Norte, Camino Primitivo, Camino Portugues, or, my path, the Camino Via de la Plata. I am here for three days, resting from a sore shoulder and an aching heart. Mi companero, Juan and I parted ways yesterday. I was doing really well while we waited at the bus station together for the coaches that would take us our separate ways. Then the bus pulled in and I looked in Juan's gentle eyes and there were tears there, and he couldn't speak, and so, then, neither could I. We hugged fiercely, we patted each others shoulders lovingly, we sobbed, then that was that. Once started, I got on the bus and cried the whole way to Santiago. I cried for the loss of my very good friend. I cried for all Juan had bore witness to for me. For the times he likely didn't really understand what was going on for me, but knew I hurt and kept close, or, adversely, gave me space...and he always knew which was more appropriate. For all the times we'd simply walked in a comfortable silence together...the sign of a truly healthy friendship. For belly laughs every day. I cried for my marriage, now over and done. I cried for who I was and who I'm becoming. I cried because I miss you all and simultaneously wish I could keep walking forever. It all flowed through me and by the time I got to Santiago I was exhausted from crying. I thought I needed a rest day for my shoulder, but what I really needed was time for processing, release and mourning and I'm so thankful that that time is available to me. I awoke this morning at exactly the same time Juan and I arise every day and wave of sadness hit me so hard I had to sit in the bathroom for a half hour and went through practically a roll of toilet paper, wiping my eyes and nose. I can't explain the type of relationship Juan and I had, except that it is truly unique in my experience. I'm sure we were a funny dyad to see together, a 62 year old, brown Spanish man and a 35 year old, white Canadian woman, communicating via simple sentences and charades. Juan was a commodity for everyone we met on the trail...he knows all the albergues and the best bars. Juan and I have been privileged to sit in people's homes turned restaurants and eat with them, because they remember him for his previous trek along the Via de la Plata. All along the trail other peregrinos had heard of us. Cyclists would come and say, "Oh, you're the Canadian woman! We heard about you! Your companero is the Camino expert, no?" Tomorrow I will return to Ourense and June 2nd I continue on the Way alone. No more Juan...but I carry him in my heart now, just as I carry all of you.
Lovingly,
Kim
