8.7.24 The final post

Final blog: the last goodbye. Well here I am at Santiago waiting for my flight home to Malaga. I have just bid a sad goodbye to John who has gone to catch his flight to Stansted to see his kids and grandkids. Yesterday we completed the last stage of the Camino to Cape Finisterre and the end of Spain.

39 days and 873k and a whole country crossed on foot, quite mind-blowing when you think. So I' bym alone with 5 hours to wait for my flight which seems a good time to sum up what I've learnt. There's a song and a poem which have been going through my head in the last few days. During that time, I've learnt the final lesson from the Camino. Firstly, a little background. The day before Siobhan died, her sisters flew over from England and we had a perfect happy family day. When they left, they had to say goodbye for the last time. I just said I love you and see you tomorrow as usual but not goodbye. She deteriorated overnight and by the time I got there, she was in a coma and even though I stayed with her until the end, we never got to speak again or say goodbye properly. I feel guilty about this and glad because I really don't think I would have wanted that memory in my head.

This poem was read at Siobhan's funeral. I really didn't get it because we never had that conversation but now I do, I think upto now I've been holding onto her. It's time for the last goodbye and our darling Siobhan to move into the past and Olivia and me to stay in the present and to move into our futures. We'll never forget her and will always love her but she's gone and as hard as it is to accept she's not coming back, at least in this life. I know she will always be looking over us but our futures are going to be without her. I must learn to be grateful for the 30 years I had her for and not mourn the time that she won't be here.

The song was by a 1970s folk singer, Roger Whittaker. The chorus has been stuck in my head: this must be our last farewell for you are beautiful and I have loved you dearly more dearly than the spoken word can tell.

I wanted to finish with sunset over the Atlantic but it was too cloudy yesterday! This is a picture that Olivia took the night Siobhan died. It seems appropriate as she always loved the sea. I know that's how she would want to be remembered.