BlogLite

Although I’m not walking today (but do some nevertheless), let me share several thoughts with you that have not benefitted from enough miles of simmering. The title “BlogLite” seems appropriate, promising a shorter daily entry and possibly lighter fare in content. So here goes.

Today, I’m dry. This is a humongous improvement over yesterday’s journey. Lots of R&R&R (Rest and Relaxation and Rejuvenation). Tomorrow promises more of the same, but with a scheduled massage to boot. I’ve been feeding at the counter all day. Rachael welcomes à la carte requests, but every menu choice ends with a pie option.

Charles Baudelaire, the 19th Century French poet and my favorite writer, wrote several literary pieces entitled “Aux lecteurs” (To the readers). As independent an act of creation a piece of writing can be, its audience, the reader, is always implicated. I feel the same way about my daily blog entries and you. You are an indispensable part of my pilgrimage experience–willing to go up and down and around literally and emotionally with me.

As public as this website is, I have felt safe letting you into my life and into the depths of my head and heart. I have no preconceived notion as to how my entries will unfold each day. Let me assure you that I have never held back (except for certain risqué passages that will come out in a different edition).

Anny Ewing thinks there’s a book here in the making.  If there is, the preface will be about you, “mes lecteurs.” Better stop here before Lite becomes less so.

Not Singing in the Rain

I wake up early again, but this time in the lovely home of the Matlacks. I’ve been here less than 24 hours, and already I’m “re-calibrated.” What I see falling from  the sky outside my window, however, quickly throws me out of balance. Today’s segment will be very wet, but shorter than yesterday’s.

With less than a mile finished, I can now declare with certainty that I’m drenched. Question: why do totally dry drivers inside comfortable, climate-control cars never slow down when passing a totally soaked pedestrian? The Pass & Splash School of Driving warrants its own traffic violation.

When I see Trader Joe’s of Needham, I sneak in to deliver my potent message, rankling inside me for weeks now. Can they please call TJ’s of Media, PA and tell them that I made it to Boston despite the fact that they chose not to sponsor my walk? And be sure to tell them I’ve covered the promised 500 miles by some and did so in 39 days. So there! Did they think this old man incapable of “walking the talk” he originally proposed? Let it go, Asselin. It’s the rain talking, not you.

As I move forward, each drop of falling rain reinforces the deep sadness I carry today. But you’ve practically made it! I know, I know, but what about all those folks along the way I didn’t talk to about Nathaniel and his BDD? I could have spread even more awareness. Is it normal to overlook my obvious success and just dwell on regrets?

As I sit in a small café, I decide to eat two croissants (one almond, one plain), hoping this medicine will cure my darkness. Surprisingly, it does a little. Maybe a third would help even more. I don’t test the theory. But what really succeeds is an e-mail from my friend, Char, from Westtown. She must have intuited this near-the-end angst. Her words are comforting. So are Judy’s on the phone. Who says this is the end? Perhaps my arrival on Thursday will be only the beginning.

I finally arrive at the Hackneys in Newton, good friends of the family whose son Dan was Nathaniel’s best buddy since elementary school. My stay here will span two days, enough time to be thoroughly pampered by Rachael’s hospitality (especially her homemade pies–both of them–the sure cure for anyone who has stopped singing in the rain).

(Webmaster’s P.S. The media coverage is spreading! Check out these links to Newsday, The Daily Mail, International Business Times, and Yahoo News. And plenty of coverage is also circulating to publicize the rally when Denis finishes his walk on Thursday, June 7 at Christopher Columbus Waterfront Park in Boston, 11:30 to 1:00 p.m. We hope you can come, and we also know that those of you who can’t will be there in spirit!)

Rabbit…Rabbit! 

What is it deep within the walls of the Brockton friary that wakes me up at such an early hour? 4:30 is hardly an appropriate time to start one’s day, but I do. First order of business–say “Rabbit…Rabbit!” Then it’s the usual early-morning “Camino de Nathaniel” office hour: read e-mails, answer correspondence, schedule appointments, confirm rendez-vous, etc. If I don’t do this now, it won’t get done on the road. By 6:30, I hear stirrings around me letting me know that breakfast will soon be available.

Leaving the Atonement friars in Brockton is like leaving the order a second time. How quickly I’ve adapted to this lifestyle since yesterday afternoon’s arrival. But my calling remains elsewhere. During morning prayers in chapel, I quietly sneak out the backdoor. First stop: drop off a letter for Henriette, the breakfast maid at the Country Inn and Suites across the street. We met her in November 2009 when Nathaniel was hospitalized. She had been so sympathetic then. She needs to know what has happened in the intervening two plus years. The news will devastate her.

Today’s itinerary is straightforward–move north and slightly west in a Newton, MA direction, but stop in late afternoon in Needham. That’s a 20.7 mile walk that will help make Saturday’s short and sweet. Here’s the line-up of towns: Sloughton, Canton, Norwood, Westwood, and finally Needham. In downtown Sloughton, I meet the mail woman, Michelle, who listens to the Nathaniel story and exudes sympathy. She can’t imagine losing a child. Neither can I!

Jenna’s Place further up the road in this  same charming town looks like a perfect spot for “Second Breakfast.” Sheila hears my story too and then decides to make a public announcement about it to the other customers. I stand up and fill in the details where needed.

A woman sitting in the booth against the back wall asks me about the Foundation I represent. I explain further. She says that she’s the sister/sister-in-law of the couple who runs PeaceLove Studios  in Pawtucket. Remember it? I stopped there Tuesday but it was closed.

Moving from one town to the next, I now see the New England characteristics in the architecture of the houses, churches, shops,, etc. I’m definitely not in Kansas (Pennsylvania) anymore.

It’s also beginning to feel like the end of this walk and I’m not sure I like that feeling. Like our approach to Santiago last spring, my nearing Boston is robbing me of the timelessness I felt at the beginning of this pilgrimage. Can I stay fully present over the next few days and remain in kyros time to which I’m addicted? Will thoughts of next Thursday’s rally in Boston rob me of the attention I need to fully experience the last few segments of the Camino de Nathaniel? The Earlham College group returned to Madrid yesterday, and today the May Term in Spain comes to an end. Mine will follow the same fate soon. How ambivalent I feel about this final chapter.

Early this morning, I cross the 500-mile marker and by this afternoon, the total is 519. I guess it looks as if I’ll go over the original 525-mile estimate. Wow!

Allison Webster Matlack and Dan Matlack (both former Westtown school colleagues) and family welcome me in on Hannah’s (daughter) graduation day from high school. Other relatives are present. What a perfect day in all ways!

In Mansfield, I wake up to the splendor of Burnham Family Hospitality. As the French would say, “C’est une bonne adresse!” Last night’s lasagna dinner fulfilled all culinary expectations. Thank you, Beth, Dave (in absentia), Katherine, Laura, and the founders of the last-night’s dinner, the grands, Jay and Horace. This household is a multi-generational oasis.

Today is a spring day to beat all spring days. I choose a street that especially calls out to me, “Pilgrim Road!” That’s a first. As I approach McLean SouthEast, a flood of contradictory emotions wash over me. I remember vividly the events of seventeen months ago. This place was the epicenter of our lives as we sought care to get Nathaniel back on track. Today the hospital grounds have blossomed into a glorious spring. In November 2009, everything was dreary both in actual landscape and inside our hearts.

An introduction to Mark Longsjo, Director of Programs, leads to the decision for us to have lunch together with the hospital medical director, Dr. Jeffrey Rediger. As I sit outside the locked unit, some of the patients file out for recreation. How Nathaniel loved those moments of freedom while in residence here.

Wondering how I would manage to release the strong emotions associated with this institution, Nathaniel gives me a blatant hint–a red-tail hawk swoops down from a nearby tree, passes over my head, and flies away. I’ve always associated this bird of elegance and grace with Nathaniel. “Follow my lead,” it strongly suggests, “and release all those feelings to the universe.” I comply. These moments of liberation happen repeatedly during the camino.

At lunch, we talk about many things related to Nathaniel, his experience at McLean SouthEast, brain disorders in general, and the psychology and physiology of wholeness and wellness. I’m so grateful for their visit.

Then begins the last segment of my walk today–a stroll to Westgate Mall where the Friars of the Atonement still offer a quiet place of worship and rest surrounded by too many big-box stores. The friars are my hosts for the evening. I gladly accept their loving outreach.

National News Coverage

In lieu of my usual blog, and to conserve my energy for the final push of the walk, check out the article posted today on ABC News. And the Los Angeles Times picked up the article run earlier on the walk by the Lehigh Valley’s Newspaper, The Morning Call. Every day I try to communicate with at least five people about BDD. I am hoping that the press coverage has taken care of that for me today!