In all the excitement of preparing for this great journey, I never once gave thought to how very difficult it would be to say goodbye to my life here in the desert. As I was packing, and repacking a dozen or more times, checking off lists, and ensuring I had all necessary items in tow, I wasn't prepared for the sense of sadness that enveloped me as one by one, I said goodbye to my family and friends. A warm farewell at Mass from my church community left me a little melancholy. My grown children, and my grandchildren all voiced their concerns one more time about going all that way by myself, but they knew my mind was made up, and they gave me their blessing. My Mom, who will be 85 on July 8th, was probably the hardest to say goodbye to. She is incredibly spunky for her age, very computer literate, and still very active. She lives near by in a wonderful senior country club and has many good friends with whom she gathers several times a week. Between her card games, the Red Hats, her swim club, her Singles club, her Knitting Guild, and her Crafty Ladies Club, I'm not sure she will have time to miss me, but I know there will be a hole in my heart until I get back home to see her again.
Last night, I took my very precious, and very old (14) yellow Labrador retriever Murphy Mae, to my friend Carol's house. Before I left, I had a long talk with Murph. I explained to her how I needed to walk the Camino. She seemed to understand. I asked her to please not go to heaven while I am away, but she wouldn't promise anything. She just looked at me with her big brown eyes filled with perfect unconditional love. I don't know if she will be here when I return. I don't know if I will be able to live with the guilt if she is not. I have given her a very good life, but I am not ready to say my final goodbye to her. I pray she knows I will come for her when I return. I will leave her in God's (and Carol's) hands for now.
I have made it as far as North Hollywood tonight. My little Boston Terrier, Hollywood, is laying by my side, snoring away as I write this. I am at my friend Theo's house. Theo will be caring for my littlest baby while I am away. Theo owns Hollywood's litter mate, Vino. The two pups have had a good time this afternoon romping around her yard. Only a little more than a year old, Hollywood and I are close, but we don't share the history that is with Murphy. And still it will be hard to say goodbye.
All in all, it is an unfamiliar feeling, this sadness as I depart. I don't ever recall such a feeling before. The excitement of a pending vacation or trip always superseded any angst about leaving people or pets. Perhaps as I get older, I am realizing how very Blessed I am to have such wonderful relationships with my family and friends, and my precious furkids too. So for Mom, for Amy & Anne, for Murphy, for Theo, for Carol, for Ned and Kathy, and for all my dear friends near and far, know that I will miss each and every one of you. And I will hold you in my heart until I return.
In all the excitement of preparing for this great journey, I never once gave thought to how very difficult it would be to say goodbye to my life here in the desert. As I was packing, and repacking a dozen or more times, checking off lists, and ensuring I had all necessary items in tow, I wasn't prepared for the sense of sadness that enveloped me as one by one, I said goodbye to my family and friends. A warm farewell at Mass from my church community left me a little melancholy. My grown children, and my grandchildren all voiced their concerns one more time about going all that way by myself, but they knew my mind was made up, and they gave me their blessing. My Mom, who will be 85 on July 8th, was probably the hardest to say goodbye to. She is incredibly spunky for her age, very computer literate, and still very active. She lives near by in a wonderful senior country club and has many good friends with whom she gathers several times a week. Between her card games, the Red Hats, her swim club, her Singles club, her Knitting Guild, and her Crafty Ladies Club, I'm not sure she will have time to miss me, but I know there will be a hole in my heart until I get back home to see her again.
Last night, I took my very precious, and very old (14) yellow Labrador retriever Murphy Mae, to my friend Carol's house. Before I left, I had a long talk with Murph. I explained to her how I needed to walk the Camino. She seemed to understand. I asked her to please not go to heaven while I am away, but she wouldn't promise anything. She just looked at me with her big brown eyes filled with perfect unconditional love. I don't know if she will be here when I return. I don't know if I will be able to live with the guilt if she is not. I have given her a very good life, but I am not ready to say my final goodbye to her. I pray she knows I will come for her when I return. I will leave her in God's (and Carol's) hands for now.
I have made it as far as North Hollywood tonight. My little Boston Terrier, Hollywood, is laying by my side, snoring away as I write this. I am at my friend Theo's house. Theo will be caring for my littlest baby while I am away. Theo owns Hollywood's litter mate, Vino. The two pups have had a good time this afternoon romping around her yard. Only a little more than a year old, Hollywood and I are close, but we don't share the history that is with Murphy. And still it will be hard to say goodbye. 
All in all, it is an unfamiliar feeling, this sadness as I depart. I don't ever recall such a feeling before. The excitement of a pending vacation or trip always superseded any angst about leaving people or pets. Perhaps as I get older, I am realizing how very Blessed I am to have such wonderful relationships with my family and friends, and my precious furkids too. So for Mom, for Amy & Anne, for Murphy, for Theo, for Carol, for Ned and Kathy, and for all my dear friends near and far, know that I will miss each and every one of you. And I will hold you in my heart until I return.
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have a great time
ReplyDeletebuen Camino
Ian