Villatuerta and Marty

Walking after lunch I had an enormous sense of open-hearted love and happiness, a skip in my step, and an easy appreciation of the beautiful vineyards and wheat fields, the mountains, the wildflowers and thistles along my path.

I walked into and through the town of Villatuerta, seeing only a few other pilgrims, until I arrived at the attractively aged church.

Upon the wall by a fountain is engraved:

BEBED AGUA PEREGRINO
TOMAD DESCANSO Y DEJAD SED
Y EN PROXIMA ETAPA SABED
QUE OS DARA FUERZA UN BUEN VINO

AQUI NACIO SAN YEREMUNDO
QUE EN IRACHE FUE SU ABAD
PEDID SU GRACIA Y MARCHAD
HACIENDO AMOR CON EL CAMINO

translated roughly:
Drink water Pilgim
Rest and relieve thirst
In the next stage
A good wine will be given to you

Here San Yeremundo was born
His abbey was in Irache
Ask his grace and march
Making love to the Camino

................

And I noticed a young man in the doorway, so I asked if I could enter. He opened the door and whispered "pase"

Inside was cool and I sat on a pew to contemplate the ornate effigies, deciding to carry forward the sense of open hearted wonder and appreciation. My mind turned to all the weddings, funerals, celebrations of births and prayers that must have been said inside those walls over the last few centuries.

Normally, I find little inspiration within the boundaries of a house of worship: my own faith thrives in the outdoors.

Villatuarte was different. I had the clear and distinct sense of my brother being there with me, only that the two of us were standing in a wheat field enjoying the view of vineyards rolling off into mountains and the feel of sunshine on our backs.

As tears welled up in my eyes, I spoke with him and he to me about how amazing that place was; how beautiful.

"Wow. This is really cool" he said in a way that he said to me a thousand times.... Looking at me and quietly smiling while he shrugged his shoulders.

He thanked me for bringing him along with me on my journey and told me that he had to get moving along on his own Camino, indicating a path I couldn't see.

My tears poured out, dripping down my chest, onto the pew, and I was weeping (I'm crying now, to be honest... Feeling foolish in the courtyard of the hostel while people bustle around me).

Alone in that church with the sounds of my chest-heaving sobs I continued to have the most mystical experience I think I've ever felt.

I was in two places at once and speaking with my dead brother ... Telling him how much I didn't want him to leave yet, how much I miss him. He agreed... Said that he didn't want to go either but that it would be ok. And while I was overwhelmed with sadness and sense of loss.... I felt a deep sense of peace as well.

I cried there for a while longer, reluctant to move and to break the spell. It my have been minutes or hours.

When I did finally stand, I realized that the young man (the priest?) was there patiently waiting for me. He asked if I was ok, in the gentlest voice. I laughed and he smiled, I told him "no" but I am better than I was. He smiled, I smiled and cried again, we both laughed a little.

I asked if I might please use the restroom.

He led me through closed doors and down a corridor to use a humble restroom, asking that I turn off lights and close the doors when done. It was not a public space.

As I left, he locked the door behind us and hurried off somewhere - I suspect I had made him late for wherever he was headed. I glanced at the church hours as I was wiping my face up and realized that when I first asked to enter he was locking up for the afternoon.

I don't pretend to understand what happened there: neither what inspired me to request entry, nor what it was about the moment that invited me to sit in contemplation. I can't say what drove the vision or experience that I had beyond: The Camino.

This is why I came here. The realization of how my grief has been choking me for a year and the knowledge that I cannot keep it inside me any longer.

I'm making peace with it now.

As I walked onward (miles to go before I sleep...) I had to stop several times to cry. The emotions were (are) strong and fresh and full of both love and sadness. Peace is the overarching sensation.... Leaving behind a weight that has been with me every day, weight I am reluctant to release for fear of losing what I have left of him.

But it's time; my Camino does not require me to suffer that particular weight any longer.

So today I'll wipe off my tears again. I'll pack my mochila and shoulder the load, find coffee and walk West.... Irache, the famous wine fountain, is a few miles away and I plan to toast my brother there.... Then carry on.

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