Day XI: Atapuerca -> Burgos; 12.2mi.

🛏:Hostel Manjon, 19€.

This morning I woke up in what we referred to (mostly-fondly) as our barn hostel (reference yesterday’s picture if need be) with a horrendous sore throat. Spirits low, we walked out into the dreary weather and around the corner to grab something quick to eat at the next door hotel restaurant. There, we ran into who we refer to as our “first camino friend” from Maryland and my aforementioned lawyer friend. They’d become fast friends with each other and we’ve had the pleasure of staying in the same town as them the past two nights. The four of us decided to walk together to Burgos, where our first camino friend would be leaving the trail (this was preplanned and anticipated). At that point our plan was to say our goodbyes and continue on to a further town, but despite the incredible company, my physical and emotional stamina plummeted with each step. I quickly decided I’d be staying in Burgos tonight myself.

Several people complete this trek in phases, returning wherever they left off each year or as time is available to continue towards Santiago. Others skip a few towns here and there via a bus due to time constraints. And then some leave unexpectedly due to injury or other unanticipated events. Regardless of why, goodbyes are inevitable on this trip.

It doesn’t settle well with me knowing each time I see someone could be the last, both on this trail and in life in general. I’m clumsy at goodbyes, often dragging them out in pursuit of the unattainable “perfect” ending until they become awkward. And I’m more than a little bit obsessive compulsive about needing closure and pretty endings. In group settings I make every attempt to afford myself the time to say goodbye to every individual person in the room, even if I have plans to see all of them the next day. I remember calling my old ambulance partner in an “I forgot to give you a goodbye and thanks for a year of memories hug” panic as I drove away after our last shift together. I’m not only this way with people. If a messy memory is attached to my last encounter with a place or song or smell or time of year (etc.) I make every attempt to seek out a more favorable last-memory with said thing. I digress, I’m a wreck.

I was talking to my counselor about all of this and the things I desired to tie up with a pretty bow so I could set them aside before this trip. And then I quickly verbalized that I was aware of how unrealistic that was. I’ll be home in less than a month and I’ll have chaos to address, decisions to make, bills to pay and my work pants will still make my calves break out in hives. I’m learning and accepting that life isn’t one neatly wrapped box with a bow and it never will be. There will be boxes you don’t have time to wrap, boxes that get shoved in a dark corner or left alone or forgotten for awhile, or forever. There will be boxes you tape up in ugly ways and you might have to go back and redo those ones because you can’t stand looking at it or knowing it’s there or simply because it would never make it through the mail in once piece that way (and maybe the person it’s being sent to won’t even care how much effort you put into choosing all the right things or maybe they won’t care that you sent it at all or maybe, for some reason, it’s one of the boxes they need to shove in a dark corner and leave alone or forget for awhile, or forever. And maybe they won’t ever tell you why. And then that turns into a box you have to sit on and duct tape a million times just so it will close and not burst open because you’ve done every possible thing to clean it up and it’s not working and there is literally nothing else you can do but accept that it’s okay if it doesn’t look pretty).

Anyways, I’m working on being more okay with the word “goodbye” and it’s implications. It’s clearly a process.

🎒:

One of my number one love languages is handwritten notes. Thanks to the people who knew that. I haven’t minded carrying these around (and reading them over and over again) one bit. Special shout out to my sister who wrote “for a hard day” on an envelope I kept tucked away until today.

” .. if there are tears may they pave the way for growth and future victories and smiles ..” ❤️