Grateful for happiness?

Posted on December 5, 2014 by curibe2014

Thanksgiving Table

Thanksgiving was at our house this year and in a sense it was the most relaxing one yet. This is the first year I wasn’t stressed about making the turkey since taking over that duty from my mom, more than a decade ago. My sister and I have tried to make it a bunch of different ways but slathering a mixture of butter and herbs de Provence between the skin and the meat makes the juiciest most delicious turkey so we stick with that recipe. My broccoli gratin was made in advance and the rest was potluck so while twenty-eight of us would gather around the table this year, I spent the day taking a walk, watching football and generally just waiting for the turkey to be done.

Thanksgiving day was warm, sunny and stunningly beautiful. My California sycamore seemed to glisten in the sun even as the leaves dropped gently to the ground. It was the kind of day Gus would have been running around the yard, kicking at leaves, agonizing over how long much longer he’d have to wait to dive into the turkey. I imagined his legs, which would have been by longer now, draped over the end of the couch as we watched the football games or episodes of Twilight Zone. I imagined I would have been trying to capture the family Christmas card picture while none of the boys cooperated. I willed myself not to cry.

Each year, before sitting for dinner, we go around the room taking turns expressing something for which we are most grateful for that year. Over the years, this tradition has taken on a life of its own as I imagine all traditions do and going around the room has been taking longer and longer because everyone seems to want to make a speech. I decided I would limit everyone to a single word this year. To make sure we were all listening to each other, I would ask that each person first say the word just said by the person next to them before adding their own and that we try not to repeat any sentiment or object of our gratitude already expressed. It would be a wonderful exercise in listening and being concise.

As the time neared for me to start off our expressions of gratitude I wondered what feeling or thing I would choose and if I could mean it. Grief can be unpredictable and devious and so while I thought I had somehow learned to co-exist with it, it has turned around and poked at me with much more ferocity than I expected this year. I have been missing Gus terribly this holiday season. I feel constantly sad and on the verge of tears most days. Another holiday without him, another year gone by. I reminded myself that Gus would not want me to be sad or make others sad and so when it was time, I slapped a smile across my face and gathered everyone around the table. After thanking everyone for joining us again, I said I was grateful for happiness and I began to mean it.

Allowing happiness to enter into our midst has been as difficult as the loss itself. Being happy seems wrong somehow as though it is an act of betrayal or a sign that we are “over it”. There is no getting over your losses, I still miss my grandmother now deceased thirty years, I miss my grandfather, my mother-in-law and I can’t imagine ever not missing Gus but I have to make a choice. I can either to wallow in the sadness or bask in the sunlight of happiness. I choose happiness because that is the best way to honor my baby boy who was always happy even when he was sick. The truth is there is much to be happy about, lots of “upsides”. I have great friends, an awesome family, a wonderful husband and two amazing, talented, funny older boys. I have lost weight and feel great about myself. I have extraordinary parking karma, finding a spot near where I need to go even when the lot is full. I have a job a like and I am taking a shot at doing what I always wanted to do – write. I am finally in a book club through which I was introduced to incredible books and authors. We have been fortunate to have had many opportunities to travel this year. We skied in Utah, visited my sister in New York, cruised through the Panama Canal, partied in Vegas a couple of times and next week we will head to Seattle to watch the Seahawks take on the 49niners. We must be happy because everywhere we go, Gus is with us. Our most recent and obvious encounter with him was when we stopped in Cabo San Lucas at end of our family cruise. Of all the places we could have chosen to stop for breakfast we just happen to pick the one restaurant that is permeated by the image of a figure with outstretched hands in a sign of victory much like Gus’ memorial picture. Thank you Gus for giving us happiness by your life on earth and from above in heaven.

Gus’ memorial picture

Gus image on chairs

Gus image on base of sinks

Gus image on the window outside. Gus with his brothers again.

Dia De Los Muertos

Posted on November 5, 2014 by curibe2014

I have long thought that it is a miracle that the vast majority of us are born perfectly fine and live well into old age. Somehow billions of cells (I have no clue how many cells are actually in the body but it seems like a lot) combine to form perfect human beings with the correct amount of toes, fingers, eyes, ears and limbs that usually function pretty well for an amount of time that defies explanation. How does a nose not wind up in the middle of your body or an ear on your elbow? Why can one person who smokes like a chimney live and die of old age while another person who never smoked die of lung cancer? I am grateful for the eight additional years we got with Gus by the efforts of those who fight to cure cancer but I often wonder if we don’t struggle too much to hold on to our youthful lives as though continued medical intervention and making our faces and bodies appear young will somehow fool death into passing us by. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t welcome death, it is tragic and painful but only for those of us left behind, the souls of our departed are in the spirit world without pain or worry.

The Dia de Los Muertos is not intended to be a somber reminder of loss but an affirmation of the cycle of life so we can live it with more meaning and awareness. Elaborate altars are built for our departed in their memory and to lure them back to us with offerings of their favorite food and drink in deference to a belief that the soul lives on after death. Since Gus’ passing I have adopted this tradition in earnest, building an elaborate altar which is up from the beginning of October to November 2nd and hosting an ever growing party at which our family and friends add pictures of their loved ones to our altar. The result is that although Gus is still the main star, he is now surrounded by many angels. I am profoundly grateful for this tradition as it has become a wonderful way to give thanks to our friends and family for their support and share the joy of life as we remember all of our loved ones together.

My grandfather loved the following poem by Amado Nervo. He would recite it at the top of his lungs at family parties when I was young.

“At Peace”

Very near my sunset, I bless you, Life because you never gave me neither unfilled hope nor unfair work, nor undeserved sorrow. Because I see at the end of my rough way that I was the architect of my own destiny and if I extracted the sweetness or the bitterness of things it was because I put the sweetness or the bitterness in them when I planted rose bushes I always harvested roses Certainly, winter is going to follow my youth But you didn’t tell me that May was eternal I found without a doubt long my nights of pain But you didn’t promise me only good nights And in exchange I had some peaceful ones I loved, I was loved, the sun caressed my face Life, you owe me nothing, Life, we are at peace!

May we all find peace in and with our lives…

2012

2013

2014

Gus you are forever the source of my joy!

Spirit knows best

Posted on October 16, 2014 by curibe2014

As seen from the couch.

Last week I got uncharacteristically sick. Oh, I get a cough and sniffle occasionally, but I don’t get dropped to the ground by viruses and bacteria, I am too strong for those pesky micro-organisms, or so I thought. Despite attempts at visualizing myself well, something or likely everything turned me into a body aching, feverish mess that did nothing but lay on the couch. I am a terrible patient because illness makes me angry. I growled around because I had things to do, books to read, ideas to write down, and I had a great party to go to on Saturday that I had to miss! I had no choice but to do what any normal terribly sick person would do – watch T.V.

On my worst “sick” day, one of the cable channels was playing Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and I watched it sideways from beginning to end. At first it reminded me that I planned to start reading the series to Gus when he turned eleven. Up until then, he’d only dabbled in reading, a Percy Jackson novel here, a partial try at the Hunger Games there, and he picked up the middle book in the Lemony Snicket’s series (who does that?) and quickly put it down (phew!). Reading bored Gus or as he said “it made his eyes tired”, the only thing he every really got through was the Diary of a Wimpy Kid, the Bone graphic novels and anything that I read to him. That fall was going to be different though, I had great aspirations, no more graphic novels, no more tired eyes, I would lead him to the Harry Potter holy grail and he would love to read on his own, I’d done this before. As I drifted towards sadness a new thought gripped me, the good world had spared me from marring an otherwise wonderful memory.

The Harry Potter series is a cherished memory from a time before Gus. Back then, I had two little boys, oldest aged 10 and little one 8, who didn’t bother to dabble they just hated reading. I picked up Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone out of desperation. I declared it a new nightly ritual to replace the half hour of cartoons they were allowed only if and when they finished their homework. The first time I picked up the book, they nearly fainted from the idea that they would have to sit there while I got through the very thick book. To distract them from its length, I offered to limit the reading to a single chapter a night. They leafed through the book and seeing that the chapters were not too long reluctantly agreed. Within a week the boys were asking for “just one more chapter” and then moaning and groaning because I had to close the book for bed time. We flew through the first three books this way and then had to wait a year sometimes two for the next one. It was a magical time although it wasn’t until the movies came out that we realized I read some of the names wrong like Hermion – instead of Her-mi-o-ne (sorry I’d never of heard of that name) and Hay-grid instead of Haa-grid.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire was the first book they wanted to read on their own. I bought several copies of the book and we each read our copy sprinkled around the family room. We read the next two books the same, discussing it at the dinner table and teasing each other with the next surprise. The boys were in the middle of high school when the last book was published and they read it at Boy Scout summer camp while I read it at home. I was sobbing when I closed the book but not because of the book but because I knew my time with the boys was coming to a close. They would soon be off to college and the rest of their lives.

It is tough to bridge back to happy memories when everyday is a reminder that we are making new memories that Gus is not there to share in. Particularly difficult however, is to go back even further to the time before Gus as though failing to limit my memories to only the time with him is some kind of betrayal, but as I lay there watching the movie I was grateful to the Spirit for keeping the Harry Potter time safe from the sadness of loss. The Spirit always knows best…..

Magical Gus

Posted on September 12, 2014 by curibe2014

Smile – I’m Fine

It occurs to me that we spend a great deal of time in life thinking about what happens after death. If the movies are any indication, we seem to have come to the consensus that the only way our spirits can linger on earth, if they linger at all, is as attacking, angry, torturing, evil presences. Otherwise the “good” spirits are supposed to have gone to the light where they roam about in vast fields awash in vibrant colors as the most beautiful version of themselves just waiting for us to join them.

It doesn’t seem fair that only evil spirits would have the power to make their presence known. Shouldn’t loved and cherished spirits have the power to conquer all including death? As a Mexican-American I believed the spirits of our loved ones are always there to guide us; we need only be open to the signs. In my own life, when I was most anxious, worried and afraid, I had the sense that my grandmother came to me. Just as I started thinking of her, her favorite song (a very old one) played on the radio or she’d come to me in a dream. But most often I felt her near me in the dead of night. I’d be jolted from a deep sleep by the smell of cigarettes (none of us smoke). The specific scent of her Lucky Menthols lingering far into me becoming fully awake.

The night Gus died I thought I felt his weight against my arm as though he had slipped into bed between us as he had done nearly every night since birth. I hoped to feel it again the next night and the night after that but the feeling never returned. I was beginning to think that it was only wishful thinking that had kept my grandmother around when we went to see AJ Barrera. The reading suggested a spiritual awareness though that was far beyond what I ever imagined. When we left, we resolved to be more open to the spirit, more specifically Gus’ spirit.

We left AJ’s house and headed to a Hallmark store for a gift. Since Gus’ passing we’ve walked into a million stores carrying those painted wood signs with inspirational sayings. We even bought the one with the quote by Wilfred Peterson, that says “Walk with the dreamers, the believers, the courageous, the cheerful, the planners, the doers, the successful people with their heads in the clouds and their feet on the ground. Let their spirit ignite a fire within you to leave this world better than when you found it…” The sign we saw that day was different. It appeared like a personal message sent from above coming so soon after the reading. It simply said:

This was our thing with him. A nearly daily verbal war that was never resolved. He’d usually start with “I love you Mom or Dad” and we’d say “I love you more” and then he’d say “I love YOU more”, and we’d go around and around until something else diverted our attention. In typical Gus fashion he was getting the first word, foreshadowing Gus’ alternate presence in our lives.

For my birthday that year, his art teacher and a dear friend to me was wondering what to give me when she found this drawing he’d made on a rare day he was at school that last year.

My friend swears the box in which it was found had been emptied the previous fall in advance of the new fourth grade class and gone through a number times. She was shocked to pull it out as an answer to what I should get for my birthday.

For father’s day a month later, my husband and older sons decided to go golfing at the last minute, getting one of the last few tee times at a course they’d never been to. They arrived to discover that a fourth man had been added to the group who walked up to them and said “Hi, I’m Gus!”.

Then later on the Fourth of July, a day Gus loved because we’d spend the entire day at the beach lighting sparklers well into the night, we found this:

A band he’d likely made at his last cub scout camp out. Could we have really overlooked it each time the car was cleaned out for over a year until it appeared in time for one of his favorite holidays?

His prayer card (shown above) says “Smile. I’m Fine”. It is what he said to me each time he could see that I’d been crying. I tried desperately not to cry in his presence, but sometimes I could not help it, the tears streaming down my face as much in grief as in anger that my precious boy was in crisis again. AJ said Gus’ mission was to help us; to remind us to smile because we would be fine on earth as we are in heaven.

While I wish everyday he was here in the flesh, I am amazed at the many ways he continues to be present in our lives and how the spirit moves to answer and address the questions and concerns that affect our hearts.

Love you more……

Knocking on Heaven’s Door – Part Four

Posted on September 4, 2014 by curibe2014

Always smiling

I have no doubt that many readers will find a million ways our meeting with AJ Barrera was a complete farce. We are after all grieving parents eager for evidence that our son is not really lost to us. Even I can point to the many times we offered up unsolicited information. However, there is no way AJ could have known about the collie, the location of Gus’ memorial shelves in our house, the memorial plaque at his school (see below), that Gus would poke fun at his relationship with his oldest brother (see below) or that he would take credit for the music that fills his other brother’s life now (see below), not to mention accurately describing the personalities of all the other relatives that made an “appearance”. But the reading was even more than that, hitting nearly every aspect of the difficulties and questions we had not even had the heart to talk to each other about. For example, until the reading, my husband had been incapable of venturing into the backyard, especially where the wagon was hiding directly across from the swing set. It was there, at the bottom of the slide, that he and Gus had last spoken, having a heart to heart about life as Gus enjoyed the sun warming his bald head. For my part, I was wondering if he’d woken up on the other side disappointed that he was no longer with us. I could almost hear him say, “Aw Man, I’m dead…”. I worried that it was my fault for not giving him the stem cells sooner, that I had missed something that would have kept him alive. It gave me great peace to know there was nothing I could do to prevent it and that he had been in control of his leaving and was ready for his transition. We left the reading with the knowledge that Gus is not just in our hearts and memories but that his spirit is actually still with us – we only have to be open to the signs. Like our walk in Spain, our reading with AJ was trans-formative. Since then, Gus is as present in our lives as ever and we are practicing living each moment with more presence and openness. Life can be truly magic.

Final reading segment:

AJ: I might misinterpret this….is there….I actually want to drop it down younger. So I want to drop it down to your younger energy and I rather be wrong on it, but is there actually like a mural or either some sort of engraving or some sort of writing that you had done in honor of your son that I have to bring up here?

Us: Yeah..

AJ: Where is this if you don’t mind me asking?

Us: It’s a memorial plaque at his school.

Memorial Plaque at Gus’ school.

AJ: He wants to let you know…” thank you for honoring him and thank you for doing this” because there is a part of it that is written and it’s engraved and there is a part of it that he wants to let you know, it’s his way of waking up and being a legend because he is a legend on the other side because he is known on this side, there is like a superhero type of energy, that he is still strong and not fighting this but still the main guy on this side. Is there a reference to him like just being like honestly a character?

Us: Yeah..

AJ: Because part of it like he is making me feel like “I am not sick, look, I’m not sick”, part of it like I’m alive, I’m happy, I’m having a good time and his energy for me is about kind of making you guys happy and making you guys laugh because I feel like his energy, when it was here physically was kind of to make you guys happy and make sure mom and dad were ok, it wasn’t for you guys to make him up, you know what I mean? I feel like his duty was to assist you and help you guys out as well, he’s also bringing up for me, do you actually…and this will sound very unique, you don’t have his jacket with you do you?

Us: Not with us for today, no.

AJ: Do you carry his jacket around? Why would he bring up his jacket?

Us: His sweatshirt is hanging inside his room and I grab onto it every day.

AJ: He wants to let you know that “I’m there with you when you do that”, “I’m there with you”, because he is making me feel like I need to acknowledge the jacket or the sweatshirt he is identifying with you and he wants to let you know I am still there for that event, I am still part of your life, because his energy, again, he is alive, like spiritually, he’s like right here, my hair is just rising, he’s a vibrant energy for you guys again, it’s not about the medium it is truly about you guys of understanding of why he wants to come across to you guys, it’s about making sure that mom and dad are ok. They are also bringing up for me like when this energy….. did you say your mom passed on the fourteenth?

Us: Uh –hugh.

AJ: Then there must be another reference to this, because flag day is like June 15^th, so is there another significance to a governmental holiday, that I need to bring up for you guys?

Us: This morning, the cub scouts go put flags on all the graves for Memorial day.

AJ: Are you guys doing an event?

Us: I haven’t done it the last two years, today and last year but we did every year since he was born with him as a guy in a stroller, or as a cub scout.

AJ: Have a party for him, he is going to be at those events so if you are placing the flags, he wants to acknowledge that I will be there with you guys, so enjoy the moment, enjoy the time with him and even though spiritually he is around you guys even though physically he is not, there is part that he wants to let you know I am still a part of your life today as well, because when I look into you guy’s energy, he is making me feel like, you guys are a team, you are a whole, you guys are a backbone, so I don’t feel like one is weaker than the other I definitely feel like you guys balance each other where you guys are at, but his energy is like I just want to step forward and be this true energy for you guys as well. Why? Is there a weird reference…..do you guys have ties to Orlando? Like Florida?

Us: We took him to Disneyworld. I have some relatives there. We went there twice with him.

AJ: It’s something one step further. I don’t think it’s just Disney. Or two I need to call him by a different name. So would he go by like Dopey, Sleepy, Goofy or something like that? Is there a name that I am actually supposed to bring up here? To acknowledge him, or to acknowledge one of you guys? I feel like it’s a funny, haha, reference that he wants to acknowledge because I don’t think it’s just making the trip to Disneyland because I’d actually see like Anaheim but I feel like if you have ties to Orlando, then I feel like in some sense I need to acknowledge Disneyworld or maybe the name of something. There is something they want to bring up here, like it’s a name.

Us: We used to call his brother Grumpy.

AJ: That makes sense, his brother?

Us: Yeah.

AJ: Your brother?

Us: No, his older brother.

AJ: Still call him Grumpy. Let him know he is still Grumpy from the other side, because I feel like I need to acknowledge him, and need to acknowledge like the name the character, and was he close to his brother if you don’t mind my asking?

Us: Yes.

AJ: Because I need to acknowledge him in a joking way, like bust his chops and let him know that I still want to feel like the brother energy. But he is making me feel like he’s the better half though. So kind of like tease him with that, so he makes like he was known for that and even though parents don’t have like a favorite child, there is a part of him like he is the better one. So I feel like it’s his way of teasing him in a unique way because he’s making me feel like “I still have all the attention” regardless. So I feel like it’s that type of energy of how he wants to step forward for both of you guys, you know what I mean? And I feel like the energy of him is just to be funny. It is truly just to be funny and remember him how he was like today as well. Now is there a separate energy, like on you guy’s level that is like a male that is passed over? When I say your level I mean, brother, cousin, friend.

Us: No – we don’t think so.

AJ: If not then I might be switching over……. AJ does switch over after all this time to another person in the group but Gus was not done. After speaking to another woman for about twenty minutes, AJ turns back over and says…. Why is your son bringing up music? Was he a musician or why is he bringing up music?

Us: No. Our middle son is really into music all of a sudden.

AJ: Your son is bringing up music. Like he wants to let you know… like I am seeing musical notes. Like when I am talking to her, he just threw music at me. So I feel like it’s almost like he is not done, you know what I mean? So I feel like he wants to jump in so I feel like of how they want to jump in just to acknowledge the energy. They often do that just to get like the little messages across but I feel when your dad steps forward I need to acknowledge the signs and signals, so I feel like he is going to be inspired, like your son is inspiring your son now as sending the music across to him.

Our Camino – Final Thoughts – April 12, 2013

Posted on June 23, 2014 by curibe2014

Buen Camino

We took a bus from Finisterre back to Santiago de Compostela. What had taken us four days to walk was covered in less than three hours. The landscape looked different from the confines of a bus and as we rode along we thought about how the Camino had affected us.

When we planned the trip, we doubted that we could make it from Sarria to Finisterre, we wondered if the pain in our hearts would amplify the inevitable pain in our legs, leaving us stranded in the middle of Spain. We were angry, secretly demanding that God explain himself via burning bush or a hand written apology, however we’d settle for a glimpse of Gus, walking along with us, maybe just slightly ahead. It was crazy of course but this particular “Camino” was a religious pilgrimage so why not? There were no notes of course and the ground was too wet for bushes to burn, even miraculous ones, and all we were ever saw were cows but as we walked, we marveled at how much the journey mirrored life.

There were ups and downs and whole areas of mud and sludge that threatened to bog us down. Forward progress went smoothly when “all water was under the bridge”, keeping us stagnant when it was not. We’d proceeded carefully trying to avoid all the “crap”, while others simply stepped in it, but more often than not the “crap” found us anyway.

We thought about how easily we had faith in odd things, like Ewan of MacAdventures (not MacTours) to whom we entrusted our money and personal belongings, not once worrying that our hotels would not be booked or our things would not be safely kept ahead of us; and that the Camino markers were official, always taking us where we needed to go even when they were spray painted on the road; along the side of a house, or a tree. Our struggle with faith therefore was not that we did not have it to throw around but that we had to keep it, even now, when things had gone horribly wrong.

The road to the end of the world was by far the most difficult part of our journey, but just when we wrestled with the idea that leaving Gus rocks, crosses and pictures was pointless and only adding to our misery, we’d met Andrew and Chris who lifted our spirits and were surprised to discover it was us who’d left the amazing rock they’d seen on their way out of Santiago after their own happenstance meeting.

We do not return ready to empty Gus’ room (if ever) or with any more clarity than when we left, but we proved to ourselves that we are stronger than we imagined having walked an average of 20km per day for ten days much like we’ve gotten up everyday since 6-24-12. The Camino has given us some peace knowing that while we will always love Gus and will miss him more with every passing day, we can walk in this new world. Buen Camino.

Until we meet again Gus.

Rock On Baby!

We are on our way.

Our Camino – Finisterre – April 11, 2013

Posted on June 21, 2014 by curibe2014

Onward Pilgrim

We woke up this morning to dark menacing clouds threatening a downpour at any second. Yesterday’s sun had been abducted by the force that insisted our walk be difficult to the end. It brought out our innate dispositions, with me tending toward optimism, insisting it would get sunny therefore going without my rain jacket and my husband tending towards pessimism going for the full rain armor. We set out early after our final “pilgrim’s breakfast” of toast and Iberian ham and cheese. Our legs and feet felt fresh for this final leg, we were sure we’d cover the next fifteen kilometers in record time.

The Camino continued to be a challenge, taking us through more mud, over bigger boulders, across swollen rivers and along partially washed out roads. We thought that after the beautiful Cathedral in Santiago, the ocean-side finishing village of Finisterre would be a disappointment but we were wrong. The sight of waves crashing against the beach as we made our way out of the mountains to walk along the shore was moving in ways we had not anticipated. Further ahead we caught a glimpse of our friends, Andrew and Chris, but they were walking too briskly and we could not catch up. That final ascent to the edge world was for us to walk alone.

As we neared town, we looked up towards the light house at the very edge of the peninsula, but it was barely visible. Like our journey without Gus, it was fitting that our final destination would be encased in fog. Mid-way up the final hill, just as we walked past the statue of a pilgrim appearing to lunge head first into the wind, a ferocious windstorm blew down the hill, pushing us back, but we persisted by taking on the statue’s stance to continue up the road.

The lighthouse was virtually deserted when we arrived, winds swirled and howled all around us, furious, as though we’d done something wrong. To get to the very edge of the cliff where a bronze boot commemorated the pilgrim’s journey, we had to become more than penitent, we had to become beggars, crawling out on all fours just to take a look. We had intended to leave our final offering there but were forced to double back to a sheltered ledge we’d seen near the 0 kilometer marker. There protected from the wind, we pulled out a pair of Gus’ beloved basketball shoes from our packs, each of us having carried one shoe for 215 kilometers. Through a mess of tears we scribbled our final messages to him, leaving one shoe on the ledge with his prayer card and a cross and keeping the other shoe to bring home as a reminder that we will always carry him with us. We walked back to the 0 kilometer marker and left our final rocks – one for Gus’ Wito Juan, his Nana Robyn and one for Gus. We’d just finished taking our final picture, when the heavens opened up, pelting us into seeking shelter at the souvenir kiosk. For a second we thought we could walk back, but as the sheets of rain came down much heavier than any we’d experienced, it was clear to us that our Camino had ended. God and Gus were saying it was time to stop walking and call a cab.

Final Destination encased in fog.

Bronze Pilgrim’s boot.

Gus' shoes - he will always fill up the space between us.

Gus’ shoes – he will always fill the space between us.

Leaving one shoe behind

We did it!

Final Rocks.

Our Camino – Oliveiroa to Cee – April 10, 2013

Posted on June 19, 2014 by curibe2014

To Finisterre

We went to bed early yesterday, exhausted from our journey, with wind and rain continuing to pound against our hotel’s shutters as it had pounded on us all day. We ached all over and dreaded the day to come. We awoke preparing to battle nature once again. We’d even had the line we’d use as we walked head first into a turbulent wind that kept us from advancing. “Is that all you’ve got?” we’d cry like Lt. Dan in Forest Gump. We put on all the layers of clothing we could and got on the road. We’d been walking only a few feet when we heard some calling out to us from behind. It was the Irishman Andrew and his new companion Chris. We gained new troops in our lonely battle, we ready for the next 20km.

The clouds that had been threatening us all morning, soon dissipated as though nature had never had any intention of engaging with us. The sun warming our bodies as our new friends warmed out hearts. Soon we were pealing off clothing, pausing for a brief time to have a nice lunch and marvel at the glorious landscape. We emerged from the trail to a remarkable view of the ocean. As we neared the end of the day’s journey, we realized that our legs were not cramped and our feet did not ache. They felt as fresh and light as though they had not been used and abused for the last 10 days. A miracle?

The sun is out.

The view from our lunch spot just off the road

A church along the Way.

A picture of Gus at a shrine.

The ocean is in sight!

Our Camino – We get by with a little help from our friends – April 9, 2013

Posted on June 18, 2014 by curibe2014

Keep Going

The Camino has a way of bringing things to you just when you need them, like the men who appeared to the group of young women to carry the wheelchairs for them. It was no different for us, when we most needed a boost, some levity, three Irishmen and an Argentinian walked into the bar. No, it is not the start of a pathetic joke, they really did. Andrew, the tallest of the bunch was celebrating his 61st birthday, on this journey to Finisterre. He’d met, Chris the Argentinian at the outskirts of Santiago, the Camino throwing them together as walking companions. Chris, who’d done the walk to Santiago the year before and spoke the language had somehow gone several kilometers in the wrong direction before realizing his error and retracing his steps, getting to the start of the Camino again, just as Andrew was beginning. They’d been walking together for two days. The other two Irishmen, who’s names we did not catch due to their heavy brogue had only just met up with them. They invited us for a drink, apologizing that the bar only carried Scottish Whiskey, we chatted, they joked, we laughed. It was midnight when we all decided to go to bed, our new friends anxious about the difficulty of the next morning’s first ten kilometers, straight up hill they said, the whole way. We divulged that we would not be joining them as our arrangement included a 10 kilometer transfer, they said we did not know how lucky we were and joked they might be begging for a ride.

The next morning, we could not help feeling a little ashamed as we rode comfortably in the cab while the few scattered pilgrims walked up a steep hill along the hard asphalt highway, their trek made even more uncomfortable by a steady downpour. But, as the cab pulled off exactly at the 10 kilometer mark, we had another thought. Providence had lightened our load. Months before, when making the necessary arrangements for our journey, our MacTours booking guru Ewan had informed us of the transfer. We balked at him, not wanting to cut any corners, but Ewan had simply said “trust me, you will want the transfer”. After our experience the day before, the transfer was not only wanted but necessary, another hill would have crippled us for ever. The total walking distance that day was 33 kilometers, we still had another 23 km to go, up and down more knee killing hills in the bitter cold and rain. By the time we arrived at our hotel, exhausted and soaked, we were grateful for the head start. We concluded that God often sends you help well in advance of when you may need it. We thought back on all the people that were put in our lives well in advance of when we’d lose Gus and how much they’d help lighten our load as we went through the worst time in our lives. We are forever grateful.