My “Camino” journey started upon the death of my husband at the age of 86 (22 years my senior). He was a 21 year heart transplant survivor who finally passed from renal failure after a year on peritoneal dialysis. He lived a quiet yet heroic life with his catastrophic illness. Never complaining about his illness or letting it impede him from living a life in a state of “grace”. Our connection to each other during our almost 30 years of marriage was deep and intertwined, an organic unit.
His death ripped me from my life’s journey leaving me in agony as to what is or was my “purpose”. Lost in grief I read Pema Chodron’s book, When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times. A passage from her book, caught my attention regarding deep pain. The advice was to “not focus on the pain, but on the lesson”. This statement reached out to me in the darkness. I literally cried out in desperation….. “What is the lesson, what am I to learn?” A profound lack of understanding enveloped me. I had no idea who I really was or why I was here. My faith shaken to the core. Questions, swirled around me, “is there anything after death? Will I see my loved one again? Is the life we live the sum and total of being and that is it?” I was not at peace with the fact, that someone I loved beyond belief was here and now forever gone. He only exists now because I and the family have a memory of him.” I anguished over the fact to “let go of the pain” did I have to let go of my love for my husband. “ I remember reading somewhere that our suffering is created by longing for things to be different than they actually are. I wanted the pain to stop; the suffering to end.
How to stop the cycle of suffering? I needed to sit with it. How is that done? Out of the questions came: I need to be with this pain, the lack of knowing, and to stare at the questions. Running away is over. The answer came to me, ” I need to walk the Camino.” I had read that this lengthy walking journey was a ritual to spiritual understanding which tested your body, mind and soul.
I questioned myself about this decision. “Are you crazy? You are 64 years old. You are too old to walk that far. You are not fit. You are overweight.” I stoically informed myself, “You are not going to be any younger. You have to try.” A sense of peace and acceptance fell over me. It was not something to do; it was “a calling”. A “calling” cannot be ignored. It is just done without further question.
Without looking at a map or having a clear understanding the actual terrain of the walk, I announced to the family, “I am walking the Camino in honor of my husband” at his Celebration of Life gathering. Dumb founded they looked at me as I explained the venture. I am sure after I made my proclamation some of the family and friends just shook their heads in disbelief and concern about my mental state.
*****the training begins
