Camino II — Day 5

It’s a beautiful photo, isn’t it? This setting with a path and all around us it’s green and inviting. It’s simply as perfect as perfect can be for mere mortals like us. And today was a day like that for the most part. We did have a period of really rough weather, high winds, and pelting rain, but mostly a walk-in-the-park kind of day.

And we needed it! Our bodies are beat up, sore feet, stiff joints (hips for me), and if I’m honest, we’re a little discouraged with all the rain. But we have never, and I mean this, never let the weather affect how we looked at each day. Every one of these days have been full of good things — new experiences, interesting people, sites we don’t see in Michigan. We’ve found good places to eat. The beer has been cold. It’s all good!

But …

This is happening back home and we are all sick about it. This picture of riot-geared police confronting young people protesting the war in Gaza has us both speechless and heartsick. As we walk, we talk about what is happening. We wonder about what is going on. All of us were around in the 60s and 70s and these images are hauntingly similar to scenes permanently imprinted in our brains.

What do these college-age young adults want? — we ask each other. Maybe like back when we were young they want to be noticed, heard, respected. But I don’t know for sure. I sat out the civil rights movement and the Viet Nam war. I didn’t protest and I didn’t go with so many in my generation to put my life on the line.

No Escape from Reality

This is us, me following her and she taking a picture of me following her. The spot where Sally chooses to take this photo is serene, beautiful, quiet, and we’re truly grateful to be here. But this is not real life. This is a trip, an escape from real life. And it’s good. I’m not knocking this. This is good. We remind ourselves constantly, and I mean constantly, about how fortunate we are to be able to physically do this, and financially afford to do this.

But before we go to sleep at night, every night, we remind one another that real life is happening back home, not here. We remember that our children and grandchildren are working hard at living well. Leah and Joshua, our daughter and son, are working with their spouses, Jory and Nicoly, to provide for the physical needs of their families. And they are trying to be good parents to their children, our grandchildren. And this is not easy work.

We Love Our Country

These good folks, Leanne VanDyk, Susanne and Bob Jordan, Janet and Vern Hostetler. They are the best travel companions you could want. They love us. We love them. And all of us love our country. We are proud to say we are from the U.S. And we care about what’s happening on our campuses with our precious young people.

But we do not understand. And, of course, that’s scary, isn’t it.

So I’ll say good night. I’m clueless, same as most of you. But I care. I care a lot. And I know you do too.

Now I’m trying to think of something profound to write. I have nothing. I’m just scared and sad and worried that we are once again not listening to those who are trying to tell us something hard to hear about ourselves.

Good night and Buen Camino! (We’re in Spain now).