Several years ago, a colleague asked me if I had ever seen the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Usually, movies with big and fat are not on my watch list. He piqued my interest when he said it reminded him of me and my family. I saw it two days later, and it has remained one of my favorite movies. It does remind me of our family, and watching the family dynamics made complete sense to me.
We left our home in town, moved onto the base at NAS Rota, and will begin the process home in the next few days. Last night, we went to the movie theater and watched the third version of My Big Fat Greek Wedding. I was the only person in the theater who wept when I was not laughing. And I mean full-on tears with red, puffy eyes and a snotty nose. Walking home, I contemplated why the movie struck me so profoundly. I began to understand the depth of my tears when I woke up this morning. Connection. The film was about connection. And that is what my sabbaticals are about.
It was a different sabbatical. There were numerous joyous moments, yet the times I will remember the most were the quiet moments of connection.
In 2022, I walked the Camino Portuguese with two of my daughters. It was a complex yet beautiful trip. On one of my most challenging days, I ran into a lovely family and chatted with them for about an hour or so. As we parted, they said should I ever be in the area; please feel free to stop by and stay with them. I did just that at the beginning of my trip. I am not sure what drove me, but it seemed important to me, so when we flew into Lisbon, they picked us up, and we spent several days at their home getting to know them in an extraordinary way. Hugo is a remarkable man who has recently had a reoccurrence of cancer. His wife, Marta, was the one who imparted words of wisdom to me on my 2022 walkabout. Pain is inevitable; suffering is a choice. These words helped and have since become a motto for life. We had the opportunity to meet and get to know both their sons and Marta’s mother, Maria. I loved that connection and feel it will last a lifetime.
I am unsure when it happened exactly, but I connected with two young women from Kentucky. We would greet each other along the way, and then one day, I found myself looking for them to check in and be sure they had made it in safely. Our paths would cross daily, and I was always comforted by seeing them. We walked into Santiago together, or nearly to Santiago as they walked in together, and I walked in with Tom. We later met in the Parador for gin and tonics, and Little E (Elizabeth) and Kim are now an integral part of my Camino experience, and I genuinely care for them. We have daydreams about seeing each other again, and I hope these come true.
Once along the French Way, we were bombarded by myriads of people. It seemed we never had a moment alone, yet I found myself alone for one brief period of about twenty minutes. I was deep in thought when a bicyclist came up behind me and caught me off guard. I just stopped in the middle of the road and closed my eyes, hoping he would know what to do. He did. He stopped and introduced himself to me. James had started his pilgrimage from St Jean de Piedport sixteen days earlier. He was from the UK and no more than forty years of age. He got off his bike, and we talked for nearly twenty minutes. It was the most profound and thought-provoking conversation I have had in a long time. While I will probably never see him again, I will never forget what we discussed or how valued I felt as he sincerely asked me for my thoughts and insights.
There was a day when my friend Marguery and I took a day off from walking and…well, just walked around town. We shopped, bought a few unnecessary trinkets, scaled some cliffs (a part of our beach walk), and then went out to lunch and had a beer. It felt like we were kids playing hooky from school, and I loved my time with her.
I connected with an artist friend of mine in Santiago, Juan Carlos. I met a lovely woman named Michelle who mistook me for someone else. I loved it when the father and son rode into FInesterre and wept together.
The most valued connection was the one I have begun to make to myself. The still, small voice inside me, which I often ignore, has become more audible. I want to listen to that voice and honor and value that place within me. I want to enjoy fall when I return home and begin to pursue my someday dreams. No matter the financial reward, I do not want work to consume my days. I have been tired and want to rest more and care for myself better. I want to use my remaining time wisely with those I love.
Looking forward to being home with you. You are loved.
Tom and Nancy’s Journeys 