The sun came out, the birds sang, and the dishes were put back in their places. Yesterday’s rain morphed into today’s sunshine. We recovered from Saturday night’s party and everyone looked good in the photos I had taken. Success!
I’m running out of time. The guilt is starting to hit. What guilt? The guilt of leaving DH behind for weeks on end while I’m walking. He’s going to be the Gary Sinise to my Tom Hanks on Apollo 13 (without the failure!!). I’m looking forward to the challenge and what this Camino will bring me. But DH gets to stay behind and work.
I’ve asked if he wants to join me for at least part of the trip and he gracefully declines. He really isn’t into that kind of thing (anymore). So I should not feel guilty.
But I do.
This week I will begin my final packing for the trip. Pack, weigh, delete. Pack, weigh, delete. Pack, weigh, delete. I can already see the pattern ahead of me and I’m dreading it yet, I’m excited.
Saying goodbye will be not so exciting.
Today we decided to go to Strasbourg, France. It is close by, about two hours. I needed to try out the credit union debit card I’ve mentioned. I had to make sure it worked in a foreign country. It did.
But I also wanted to take DH away for a visit , a mini-vacation, before we went our temporarily seperate ways. We got lost looking for a place to park, spent hours walking around the beautiful little city, had coffee, hot chocolate, and pie in a little restaurant. We were back home in time for dinner.
I wore my no-longer-new boots and forgot that I had them on. I declined climbing the 300+ steps to the top of the Cathedral for fear that I wouldn’t make it to the top and I don’t need that kind of stress this close to my big event. I said “Bonjour” instead of “Merci” when leaving the tourist information center. What a dweeb I am!!
I’m not worried. My language skills improve dramatically once I get started. I used my French to order at the cafe and I understood why what I wanted was not available (hint: now I remember the French word for breakfast).
I’m excited about packing, yet worried that I’m still missing things I can’t afford.
I’m looking forward to the new experiences and the people whom I’ll encounter on the Camino, yet I’ll miss my family and friends.
I’m chomping at the bit like a race horse at the Kentucky Derby, yet can’t answer the simple question, “Why are you going?”
Like the wineglass next to me as I write this, I am half full and half empty.