Two weeks ago that would have been me saying these words, at 6:45 a.m., while Stacy hit the snooze button on her phone 'just one more time".
This is another reversal in our roles.
This morning it was Stacy saying it was time to wake up. I didn't have a snooze button to hit but I did ask plaintively "can't we take a car like normal people?"
Stacy has become a true pilgrim, embracing the experience, turning off her phone so that the outside world cannot reach her and interrupt her thoughts, her transformation. Her writing is more tactile, in a journal, her thoughts more private. She is quiet as she walks, more moved each day by the experiences we are having; even telling me the scenery yesterday, on the way to Tabara, moved her to tears.
I was impressed. First of all, she's obviously drinking enough water and no longer dehydrated. But more importantly, that the beauty we are surrounded by has now reached her. In the beginning she said she would take a ride in a strangers car as long as the person didn't look 'too dangerous'; now, she has become a self-described 'camino nazi', absolutely determined to walk every single step to Santiago. I feel really proud of her. And protective.
As we walk to Granja I lost sight of her. I called her name, but no answer. A police car whizzed by at that moment and my over-active imagination went straight to Stacy having been hit by a car, the police on their way, her struggling to alert the rescue help that I would be looking for her. I pulled off my backpack and dug out my phone. Three calls, all of them from Stacy. And a text: "come back!".
Sick, I started hurrying back to where I had last seen Stacy, horrified that I'd abandoned her and she'd been hurt. I should have known better than to let her out of my sight!
As I approached where I was sure Stacy would be I was relieved to see that there wasn't emergency vehicles lined up along the road; and in fact, there was Stacy, alive and well on the other side of the road, waving her walking stick to catch my attention, and laughing.
"You missed the yellow arrow, but you didn't hear me call to you."
I was so relieved! We've become rather dependent upon one another. Yesterday while I rested in Tabara, Stacy walked with M and F. Yes I made it to Tabara. Señor blue-shirt was very nice, spoke a bit of french and we got on just fine. I did however give Señor a kiss on both cheeks once he safely delivered me to Tabara!) Knowing Stacy was walking with other people who care about her helped me to rest easy, but I missed her. I even missed the annoyed looked she gives me in the morning when I talk too much (I'm getting better). I missed the laughs we share once she finally wakes up, at about 11 a.m.
Today I rose from bed when Stacy said it was time. Dressed. Pulled socks over my blistered feet. Massaged voltaren in to my sore shin. Swallowed pain killers. And followed Stacy out in to the dark, where she led the way to Santa Croya, 18km north and west from Tabara. Her head-lamp shining, she was quiet this morning (as usual) as we began our walk and I thought about how remarkable this young women is; as beautiful and strong as one of my daughters. A dear friend. She's becoming my hero really.
No comments:
Post a Comment