Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Yeah Write: The Day I Stole A Goblet



In a land far, far away enroute to the ruined, Spanish hamlet called Foncebadon (population 10); I had one of the best days of my life so I stole something to commemorate it.

Walking with my closest “Camino” friend, church bells sang just for us (it seemed) at the stroke of mid-day while crossing an ancient stone bridge; a bar of dark chocolate shared in the shadow of a steeple. Trees dripped with cherries. The famously mystical, wild, white dogs basked under benches. Laundry draped sun drenched lines. Crisp cervezas were sipped while smells of seafood paella wafted through windows of the albergue. You get it.

With a glass of vino tinto in my hand at sunset, we walked from a restaurant down the hill to our hostel and sat on a log gazing blissfully out at pastures and snowcapped mountains. Interrupting cowbells, I sighed, “I’m keeping this goblet as a memory of one of the best days of my life.”

It was the one-year anniversary of my accident.

The next morning, roosters woke us early, all twenty-five pilgrims sleeping in one room. And as we sipped our cafĂ© con leches watching the sunrise, backpacks already organized, discussing how far we’d walk that day and where we’d sleep, my friend gently grabbed my elbow.

“I woke at 1:00 thinking about the goblet,” he said.

“I thought about it during the night too,” I replied honestly because I had. Because I wanted it.

He placed his hands on my shoulders and I’ll never forget what he said.

“This village is a special place. We both feel it and we are pilgrims. We don’t take things. It isn’t necessary. We have every memory and they live in our hearts. No one can take them away. We must leave this village as we found it. If we don’t, the feeling will be spoiled forever. You must return the goblet before we go on. I will come with you.” (He’s German and very authoritative.)

I felt like a naughty child being scolded. And I guess I was but he was also right. I had thought about it too; my sleep suffered from pangs of guilt knowing I wasn’t behaving like I should.

So when the sun finished rising, we walked side-by-side down the hill. I gently rested the goblet against the back door of the restaurant so someone would see it without accidentally breaking it.

“Do you feel better?” he asked.

“I do.” And I did.

I felt lighter. I felt pure. I felt connected.

We walked on.

Into a new day's beauty. Into it’s simplicity. Into new memories.


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Finally getting slowly back in the groove and that means heading back to one of my favorite places! Yeah Write. Some of the best lurking on the web but it's much more fun to participate!

32 comments:

Anonymous said...

It sounds like you have a great friend.

Jack said...

Trouble seems even more appropriate. ;)

Erica M said...

Gina! You snuck back on the grid! Yay!

That's the most exclamation marks I've used in a row in a very long time. Welcome back.

Gina said...

He was a special person. And always will be.

Gina said...

Hey! You in the peanut gallery...

Gina said...

I AM sneaky!!! Wondered if anyone would notice! I'm so excited I ramped up your enthusiasm for exclamation marks. I'm thrilled to finally have the time. And even more thrilled by your wonderful, exceedingly warm, welcome back!

Anonymous said...

I think this memory is probably better than had you taken the goblet and kept it as the memory. Your friend sounds great.

Michelle Longo said...

Good to see you back on the grid, Gina!

It's probably better that you returned the goblet. :)

Kristin said...

I like what babygatesdown said. This memory is better than the goblet. Lovely post. good to see you!

Anonymous said...

That's true, the memories are more vivid and longer lasting than any keepsake, stolen or not.

And how beautiful it is to have those memories!

Mamarific said...

Glad to see you back! Wherever you were, I want to go there now. Sounds lovely. Your friend was probably right about the goblet, but I probably would have tried to swipe it, too :)

Joe said...

Now I feel like having a glass of wine. Welcome back.

LaTonya Baldwin said...

New to your blog. Glad you left the glass there and the link for us to find. Well done.

Anonymous said...

Gina!! This is SOOOOO beautiful. I'm so glad you're back, lady! :) The line about him being German and very authoritative cracked me up. :)

Marcy said...

I loved your description of the village--it fit perfectly in with my fantasy picture of walking the Camino too. I imagine that someone in the restaurant noticed the theft and was deeply troubled by it, but you restored her faith in humanity and sense of peace by returning it.

Gina said...

He was and sometimes I still think about having it at home and sipping nice wine from it!

Gina said...

Thanks Michelle! Messing with karma kind of scares me.

Gina said...

And I have some pictures but they don't do justice to what is in my heart and head. Thanks, Kristin.

Gina said...

So true. Stolen or purchased, just not the same!

Gina said...

I did the right thing. I'm impulsive and didn't think it through at the moment. I'm glad you would have tried. Makes me feel less kleptomaniacal.

Gina said...

Aren't many times when I don't.

Gina said...

Thanks LaTonya!

Gina said...

Thanks for the enthusiasm, Christina! It was the tone of his accented voice. It left no room for any other choice.

Gina said...

Now think of 50+ villages just like it and you'll have a better picture. We were asked to return our glasses when fininshed because the restaurant was closing. I failed the "honor" system for about 8 hours. It was the right thing to do.

Natalie DeYoung said...

I too would have wanted to steal the goblet, but your friend is right - the memory will be purer now without theft involved. ;)

TMWHickman said...

Beautiful postcard of what was most certainly an illuminating experience. Simply gorgeous.

But I agree--karma gets scary!

Christie Tate said...

Beautiful! I need more of this philosophy in my life. It's simply beautiful. Why am I not remembering your accident right now????????

Gina said...

I know. My impulsive nature was the culprit. Hindsight is perfectly pure!

Gina said...

Words are insufficient to properly describe it. Even small pieces or moments.thank you, Tina!

Karma scares the crap out of me!

Gina said...

OMG!!! Beautiful, peaceful, perfect hardly describe this! Believe me, we all need more if this in our lives.

We didn't know each other really, at he time. I was new to YW. I broke my neck in a diving accident.

Linda Roy said...

So glad you're back Gina! I love all the meaning behind the reason your friend thought you should return the goblet. So sweet, like the story itself. A wonderful memory.

Samantha Brinn Merel said...

I think that you could write this shows that you didn't need that goblet to hang on to the memories of that day.