Last Goodbyes

 22nd August 2025

Last Goodbyes

Thinking of this time last year :

Being the summer holidays, there were visits from family during these days, as there usually were. 

For some it was the last time they saw their Dad, or Grandad or brother , or uncle. Three weeks later he was to die. 

And actually, how can that even be true??

That he died

That 49 weeks ago, he died ??? 

He So long ago, and yet,  it seems as if everything has just happened.       

It's such a different world without him. A world I have no idea how to navigate yet. Nothing, not keeping busy, not being with family, not watching TV or reading, no nothing takes the place of him being here. 

And I wish I'd realised while I had it, the pearl of life that was mine, mine and his, ours. 

No, not everything was perfect, but it was "ours" and I miss it . What is my life now, I ask. 

Who am I ?

One day after another goes by, goes by, and I put one foot in front of the other. I hear him say it:

"Just put one foot in front of the other. Get on with it girl, you've got work to do." I hear it. But how? No one tells you how!!!

But I apologise , I digress with all this "me" stuff. Let's go back to the memories of those last days before we went on our Camino. 

I remember going to Liz's on 15th August to help her pack the van. In my mind, because he always would have done, I imagine Peter there helping. However, I realise when reading through my journal that he didn't come. Funny how the memory works. So the journal helped jog the old memory and I conclude that the last time Peter saw them all was the day before, the 14th. And, I remember that he didn't come because he felt he wasn't able for the heavy work, which he wouldn't be able to avoid taking on.  Luckily, Dave, Ben's was amazing and packed up everything in a meticulous fashion, with help from the army of children and others. 

They left for Hereford the next morning, the 16th August, and Peter didn't even get to see where they were. That was a shame. He'd have love it, especially the countryside and the mountains. Yes, he'd have had a great time there. 

That same morning Peter and I worked hard to get the house ready for our visitors. Changing beds, cleaning, going shopping. I miss him these days for the changing of beds. Kate and Jo, with their families,  were coming to us for one night on their way home from their holidays in Europe. Jo was also collecting George, their dog, who'd spent a week with us. 

We chatted, I recall, as we worked together, about our  upcoming Pilgrimage, which was now only days away. I was getting anxious about it, thinking we'd maybe bitten off more that we could chew. But my dear hubby, in his usual loving stlye put my mind at rest.  

They all turned up the next day, the 17th. We'd planned to stay in the camper, making it easy for the eight of them to fit in the house.  We stayed up chatting till gone 11 pm. I so wish I could remember the conversations , but suffice to say, Peter would have talked all things Pilgrimage, music and grandchildren, because that was his way.

We all went to Mass together the next morning and it was a precious moment lighting a candle with two of the grandchildren who'd made their First Holy Communion in June. They were so sincere and ernest as they remembered and prayed for a close family member who was dying. We even sang a hymn together, one they both knew, "As I kneel Before You".  This Grandma's heart was swelling, as I rubbed the tears from my eyes. 

Looking Back. - 2016

 Looking Back  - 2016

31st July 2025

Hello everyone. How are things for you today? Do let me know. Maybe you will leave me a message. Then, I will probably answer you. 

This morning, deciding  to organise my journals, I find an interesting entry for 13th September 2016. Firstly, the date strikes me as significant given that Peter died on the 12th Sept 2024, and this year it will be 9 years almost to the day, since that entry.

The irony strikes  me when  I see that I' ve reflected on preparing for "our camino", especially, given that Peter died at the end of the one we finally got to do. To be honest, I didn't remember that we'd looked at it seriously at that time. So seriously that we were practicing.

 I write in my journal at that time: 

13th Sept 2016:                                                                                                                               ......"We went out on our first trek this morning to see if we will be able to do the Camino. Going out early, around six thirty, we completed a seven mile walk, to Reculver and back, setting a surprisingly good pace of about  about 3.5 mph. Not bad, I thought. As we walked we watched the golden sunrise in front of us creating a changing yellow light  across the sea, a blueish sky  unfolding  before us with each step we took. We hardly spoke, not wanting to break the meditative silence which was only interrupted occasionally with the gentle movement of the waves. 

We really started yesterday walking the two miles to mass and back. Not much, but it's a start , and Peter is totally behind the project now.  In fact he's more enthusiastic than I am. 

I have another challenge  on my mind. No, it's not my writing . I want to do the London Marathon.  Doing the park run most saturdays has inspired me. That, and Jo was talking about applying for it. Well, I filled out the form and sent it off. Next week Ill find out if I got in. If I have, I'll concentrate on that, putting the walking practice on hold for a while. 

If I don't get to run the marathon, we plan to walk the Camino in the Spring of next year.  And yes, we are mad. 

Peter is now reading everything he can get his hands on about doing the Pilgrimage. We will be so well prepared.”

There is another reference on 24th Sept:

After pages about writing group and the exhaustion of minding grandchildren, 

I think his enthusiasm shines through  here:

..."In the the background to all this , Peter is checking out extra lightweight tents so that we can go backpacking, especially on Pilgrimages. We are now planning our Camino  for next year, and looking forward the the adventure of it all. I hope that I'll be up to the hardship of sleeping in a small tent night after night and carrying everything we need on our backs . We'll see.

Peter's  friend and his wife recently completed the Pilgrim's Way from Winchester to  Canterbury. They camped with a small tent and big rucksacks. They're older than us. Of course he is more eager than ever now  and wants us to do this soon too. He says it could be a first real practice , apart from the long walks that we are already doing , that is.   We'll do more research and when we do it Ill write up the adventure. Look forward to that. Maybe write a book - "Our Camino" . That's  a little way off yet, but not so far that we can't work towards it.   Till next time..."

As I copied this entry from my journal it occured to me that the book , "Our  Camino" has yet to be written.

Obviously it'll  be a very different book now.

We never did get to do the Pilgrims Way from Winchester to Canterbury. I don't remember why. But I'd sure like to do it now, given that it was on his mind. Must look into that.  

 

Yes, you know, it's 

so  interesting, 

so meaningful, 

so comforting,

now,  to me, 

that exactly nine years ago, 

we were getting ready, 

you and I,

getting excited,

 about Our Camino. 

And that, eventually ,

nine years later, 

you died, 

left me, left us, 

having completed your  beautiful,

 spiritual pilgrimage,

as your grandaughter said,

"all the way to Heaven, Grams.

 You were so happy,

we were so together,

had so many plans, so much to do,

together. 

Now, there is no longer,

we,

no longer together,

no longer one.

Now I remain, recall, remember,

Now I am  thankful,

Now, I  hold our oneness close,

as special.

Yes, it's  hard. 

But, what we had, I give thanks for,

Yet,

Who am I now?

Who am I now?

San Martin Pinario

( Where Peter died)

 

All over the floor

2nd October 2023

 

All Over the Floor

All over the floor,

From one side of the room 

to the other, 

strewn haphazardly,

lay little mounds of clothes.

She sits in the midst,

her hand reaches for  

a purple jumper,

a tear falls 

and she breathes out 

a slow sigh.

As she always does, 

with black bags that 

are  left on her doorstep,

she tips  them out, 

all over the floor. 

It's something she always 

gets excited about. 

What will she find

among the many clothes, the odd assortment of brick o back,

 the varied collection of books.?

Always something she needs, 

for the children,  the house. 

And  always, the unexpected 

treasure.

This time its no different

nearly Christmas,  it is, yes. 

What does she find?

She finds shoes, 

burgandy coloured,  patent shoes.

Holding them close, she contemplates her reflection

And remembers at time , long ago,

dancing in shoes just like these,

being swirled around the dancefloor, 

laughing with him.

She loved those shoes, 

she loved him, she still does.

As she ponders, she delicately

 wraps her new treasure in tissue

and places them, with love in their box.

She wear them to the Christmas Dance.

A present for him.

This post is dated 1 year before the date of  Peter's funeral. Something struck me about it today. It seems like another life to me, the time i used to write so happily on my blog. 

He died in Santiago

 21 st July 2025

Hello everyone.

It’s been such a long time since I wrote a blogpost.

Since the death of Peter life has been difficult and very different. 

A practical part of that has included the dying of my laptop which I used to work on my blogposts.

I tried working with hubby’s but it wasn’t easy and my attention span has been rubbish.

Now, today, I find myself writing this blogpost using my phone.

Let’s see how that goes.

 It’s not easy, but I am determined to get back to the blog. After all, there might be some who would appreciate my words.

I have to discover who I am.

More than 10 months since he died and I can’t say I’m any nearer to finding out.

His death was sudden and traumatic, but also, in many ways beautiful.

This man of faith completed a Pilgrimage, the Camino de Santiago, a dream he and I held for many years, and which health issues prevented us from attempting sooner.

Though we were married for 52 years, that last year had been our happiest, our most joyful, as we’d grown closer together, and we were crowning that with our Pilgrimage, in Thanksgiving and in petition.

He died on the night of the last walk, having reached the end, having celebrated the Pilgrims Mass, having made many positive plans for the future. 

He went to bed happy and fulfilled, with great hope for the future.

He had no idea, we had no idea, how different God’s plans were, for both of us.

But, folks , what a beautiful way to die. I was and still am happy for him. He is with Our Lord and enjoying his eternal reward.

Me?

I’m still on my pilgrimage.

More to follow. That is , if I get a handle on this working on my phone!!! Not easy!

❤️