Day 44: Santiago - Negreira (5/14/14)

Either the hamburger or the grapes were a BIG mistake,

leading to a BIG mess!

I appreciated the irony that the only time I got terrible intestinal illness was in a major city 

and NOT while eating in small towns 

or out in the countryside!

I had a lot of time to appreciate the irony - 

since I was awake throwing up and having diarrhea all night long!

As I crawled back into bed at 5:30, 

I honestly thought there'd be no way I could get up in an hour 

and start walking to the coast.

But, as I heard Anne getting up and ready,

I knew I had to go.

I wanted to go.

Besides, I was damn near out of body fluids by then...

how could there be any more?

I'd take a chance...

Guess what?

My new cure for diarrhea is to walk so much in blazing sun 

that you make yourself even MORE dehydrated 

so there's nothing else for your body to get rid of...

that whole seeing stars thing will only last for a few seconds.

You can also agree blindly to taking whatever the Farmacia person gives you -

and then end up not going to the bathroom for two days!

(I think they were capsules of mini corks!)

Didn't matter how it happened...

I was on my way to the sea -

I was headed home!

This walk to Finisterre leaves behind 95% of the pilgrims who travel to Santiago.

While there certainly were other folks on the path, 

it was a wonderful way to recapture some of the solitude and peace 

of the initial stages of the Camino -

without much of the attendant pain or physical adjustments I'd had back then.

I was SO grateful for Annes presence.

While I can't share all the details, 

her ministry in El Salvador was basically that of collecting horror stories. 

There was a terrible massacre about 25 years ago 

(poor word choice, I know - 

is there any other kind of massacre?).

She was part of the Human Rights Team 

that went in to gather stories from the survivors 

and help collect enough evidence to bring the responsible parties to trial 

(in this case the government of El Salvador).

On a much smaller scale, 

gathering horror stories had been my job too.

There was no doubt -

for either one of us - 

that the Holy Spirit was at work in bringing us together 

as walking companions 

while we sorted all that out;

wrestling with having seen the worst human beings can do to each other, 

yet determined to maintain our faith 

along with a deep desire to see the divinity and goodness in all people. 

Our ministry histories made for some interesting conversations as we walked toward the Atlantic.

(Obviously the sea was also close to her heart, coming from Ireland and Scotland.)

We both were still struggling with  - what comes next?

We didn't necessarily expect any answers; 

it was just nice to have a sounding board that understood 

the scope of the issues that need to be addressed

As we walked and talked, 

my nighttime and early morning illness 

receded further and further into memory.

We met an Irish man, Peter, who walked with us for awhile -

and his story soon joined ours.

His is the kind of tragic Irish life usually found only in novels -

but he had a great smile, a wonderful laugh 

and he physically reminded me of a dear friend 

who had died within the past two years 

and who I still missed everyday. 

We enjoyed our time together - and we promised to see each other at the end of the world.

(Although as he walked off, Anne and I admitted we didn't know

 if that was meant metaphorically or literally.)

Things felt easier on this part of the Camino -

not that we weren't sore, hot and tired;

not that we didn't question why we were doing this -

it just felt like we didn't have to prove anything;

this wasn't because we had to do it -

this was just the icing on the cake - 

something we had chosen to do because we could.

I was also allowed to have a wonderful insight as I headed home to the sea. 

It might not be a revelation to other folks
but, trust me, for me,
it was HUGE.

I am not my job.

Like I said,
this is old news for some of you; 

there are those reading this who have been telling me this exact thing for years;

I had to come to it on my own,
feel it and truly own the reality of it.

In my pre-Camino life, I'd had my family and my job.

I was a mom and I was a social worker;

those were my primary identifiers.

Even if that simplistic definition
wasn't how other people saw me, 

it was how I saw myself.

The Camino helped the scales fall from my eyes.

While I had been given a particular set of skills,
knowledge and life experiences 

that I chose to use as a Social worker
in the Emergency room of a pediatric hospital, 

I am NOT an ER Social worker.
It was my job.

Away from that role,
I still have the same gifts,  

skill set, knowledge
and life experiences as before; 

which I can choose to use -

or not -

in any other capacity I want.

I am me -

and I'm good with that;

actually I'm more than good with that.

I'm blessed.

Like I said -

you all might have mastered this lesson years ago!

I just got it!

Better late than never, right?

Thanks be to God, 

the light dawned.