So, I've been home for a week. In my first few days back home, I was thrust back into daily family life - work, doctor appointments, sick kids, making dinner, grocery shopping, etc. At one point, when I was sitting in a dentist chair having a crown placed on a molar, I wished I was back in Spain walking 25 km. Because that would have been easier to endure than a dentist drilling and chipping away at a tooth.
I've had some time to think about the Camino and what it actually meant to me, but at this point it is hard to verbalize any meaning of the trip. There were times during the walk when I questioned why I was doing it. Those were low moments when I was physically exhausted. But those moments were often met with something unexpected - a chance to meet new people or catch up with those you met a few days before. It was at these moments when I felt more at ease with my decision to do this journey. Before my trip, I had some expectations but I mostly went into the trip with an open mind. I really did not know what to expect. The first step out the door on day 1 was probably the hardest, and I didn't expect that. I looked ahead at the trail marked with yellow arrows with wonderment -- I'm really supposed to follow this? All the way to Santiago? Well, ok then. Here goes nothing. I expected to meet many people along the way but I didn't expect them to have a lasting impression on me. I wrote about Camino Families in a previous post and I certainly had my own family (Gayre and Esther), but there were many others along the way that I looked for as I was walking. Even in the last 100km, when the trail became more crowded with pilgrims, I was always happy to see those I had met before entering Galicia. It was a especially great to see them at the end in Santiago either staring up at the great Cathedral or waiting in line at the pilgrim office where we received our compostela. It meant that they made it. For most of the trip, I felt like a fish out of water. I didn't know the language. I was way out of my comfort zone (it was like I was on Mars). And there were so many times I just didn't know what to do or how to proceed. But ... something in me (whatever it is) got me through this. I still don't think it's called bravery but more like fortitude. Whenever I'm in a situation where I feel overwhelmed by the experience, I think of something my great-aunt Jean said to me on the day of my mother's funeral, "You will get through this. You're my niece." Sure enough, I completed the journey and made it back home in one piece. It took strength and guts (and a little insanity) to leave my family for 3 weeks and do this but nothing can describe the joy of seeing my family at the airport. I was ready to come home and that first step back through the door was the easiest to make.
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About Marcy I wear many hats. First, I'm a wife to an amazing husband, Joe. Second, I'm a mom to 2 incredible kids, Caitlynn and Miles. Professionally speaking, I am a chef, dietitian, and writer working as an instructor in Hospitality Management at Montana State University in Bozeman. Photos: See InstagramMarcy's other Site |