Day 19: Glendalough
to Austin
It started several days prior to the morning of our
departure; the sadness crept into my stomach and moved up to clinch my throat
until finally my body needed to release the knots through quivering lips and
streams of tears. My heaving sadness had been presenting itself here and there
but the night before we left it was on full display. After toasting our vow
renewal and sharing stories of how Rob and I met, I looked around the table and
was struck with grief that this leg of my pilgrimage would be closing. I was
advised to feel as sad as I possibly could. So, I did.
The morning we left, I was still sad but the grief was mixed
with a feeling of fullness; fullness from the love of our group, fullness of
gratitude for having the time and resources to have had this experience and
anticipatory fullness of being able to see our children. It’s funny how sadness
can be mixed with hope and excitement.
By the time we saw our kids we had been awake close to 24
hours. I was exhausted and happy. They had so many stories to tell us and we
had so much to share with them. I felt whole and wonderful with them snuggled
around me. What a great way to end my
very long day.
Something changes internally while on pilgrimage. I have a
sense that life will not be the same and the apprehension this causes is
outweighed by the potential of newness. I am left wondering how to renegotiate
this new, “normal.” I noticed when I saw our children that they too had been
changed through their own pilgrimages. They interacted slightly differently
with each other. They seemed more cohesive and separate from Rob and me. I
think this is the best gift I could be given as a mother because they will need
the support of each other as Rob and I age and die. I am sure they will also
need time to renegotiate their new, “normal” as well. I can’t wait to see how
they do it.
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