Prince died. I know this is probably not news to any of you at this point, but I’m three days behind in my blog posts, and it hit me hard. I found out via text from Alex at the end of my rest day in A Balsa.
I was with a few other pilgrims: two from Spain, one from Germany and one from Romania. I left out an audible gasp when I got the text and everyone asked what was wrong. When I told them, I got blank stares, no reaction (I had to explain who he was to the two Spaniards). At that moment, I wanted so desperately to be with my friends, to turn up his music as loud as possible and dance, to celebrate his amazing talent and what his music meant to me. For the first time in months, I wanted to be home.
I can remember loving Prince since I was very young. I used to turn up the car stereo whenever “1999” would come on. I recorded “Pop Life” from the radio on my first ever mix tape in seventh grade. My first dance with Alex at our wedding was to “Adore.” And luckily, I got to experience one of his amazing live performances, the night before my Contracts exam my first year of law school. I got an A.
That night I went to my bed, put in my ear buds and listened to “The Beautiful Ones,” my favorite of his songs, and smiled, grateful for all the memories, all the fun his music has brought to my life.
The next morning, I woke up to an email from my mother-in-law saying that their cat, Boris, had died. I was a wreck. Boris’ death dredged up memories of losing my own cat, Caspian, at the end of 2014. I was sitting at the breakfast table with people who were basically strangers, trying to hold back tears, unable to let out the emotions inside. I desperately wanted my own space to cry, to grieve. I wanted my husband. I wanted my own bed. I wanted my cat to curl up with and make me feel better. But I had to walk.
Luckily, I had my new friend Chip to walk with that day and for the next two days after. Being with someone, talking and walking, helped take my mind off things and made me feel better. The sun shone brightly on us that day, followed by rain the next, and then sun again.
It is the most concentrated social time I’ve had on the whole Camino, but it came at the perfect time, and I am grateful to him for making me laugh and making the time and distance fly by.
Tomorrow I arrive in Santiago de Compostela!
Day 26: Today I walked 23 miles.
Day 27: Today I walked 21.7 miles.
Day 28: Today I walked 22 miles.
Hi,
I can’t believe how well you’ve done the past few days. I’m really sorry to hear about Boris. I’ll call Allie and Don. I’m glad you heard about Prince from Alex because of what he meant to the two of you. Please have a well deserved celebration tomorrow. Love you, Dad
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Sorry for the loss of loved ones for you and your uneasiness about having to live the experience alone. In Spain, an andalusian style song is sung when a group of people gathers to mourn a friend who has died:
Algo se muere en el alma cuando una amigo se va
y va dejando una huella
que no se puede borrar
No te vayas todavia,
no te vayas por favor
que hasta la guitarra mia llora
cuando dice adios.
Translation:
Something dies in the soul when a friend leaves
and it leaves a mark
you can not erase
Do not go yet,
Do not go please
that even my guitar cries
when it says
And finally, one more day your photos will never cease to amaze me: Your inside a several hundred years old chestnut tree. Your “Hawk Eye” discovered between forest litter a dark green lizard “lagarto verdinegro (Lacerta schreiberi)”, and a beautiful white asphodel flowers, “gamón blanco” (Asphodelus albus).
Enjoy so much your arrival in Santiago! Buen camino, mi amiga!
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