Step by Step

Guest Blog by Tim Broderick


Over the past several years my wife and I have been blessed by the friendship of our neighbors Tim & Erin Broderick and their precious children, Evan, Alex and Emily. They are a beautiful family and have enriched our lives in so many ways, but they have not been spared pain and heartbreak. I have asked them to share their story in hopes that it might encourage and strengthen others who have also known the unspeakable tragedy of losing a child.
— Michael D. Riley

Walk, Eat, Sleep, Repeat.

In the northwest corner of Spain, in a region known as Galicia, you’ll find thousands of people following that routine day after day. The Camino de Santiago has been attracting solo and group travelers for centuries. 

But why? 

Aside from beautiful sights, including countryside vistas, small cities, and working-class villages, reasons for walking the trail are as countless as the footprints left behind. A pilgrimage traced to biblical times, it is believed that the remains of St. James the apostle are buried in the city of Santiago, the trail’s final destination.

In addition to its spiritual mystique, people from all around the world are compelled to test their physical and mental capabilities, escape the hustle and bustle of busy, modern lives, lose weight, kick bad habits, connect with nature, or deepen their ties to people loved and lost.

Our reason was Allie, the beloved daughter we lost when she was just a year old.

Anyone who has experienced profound loss understands the shift in perspective that accompanies it. The trouble is, while everything around you seems forever altered, the world continues to carry on. Just as it did yesterday, just as it will tomorrow.

Perhaps that’s why we seek out far away places to help us heal. In literally changing the ground beneath us, a new sense of stability begins to set in, if even in the smallest way.

The Camino de Santiago has multiple routes, each varying in length. One popular trail, “The French Way,” starts at the border of France and Spain, crosses the Pyrenees Mountains, and covers 550 miles, which takes about a month to complete.  

Another option, “The Last 100km,” starts in a small city named Sarria and covers around 70 miles, which can be completed in a week. On most days, people walking the Camino will cover 12 to 15 miles.

There is something significant that happens with the simple act of walking forward. A sense of peace, of purpose perhaps, and of being in synch with one’s surroundings. Beyond the fatigue, blisters, aches, and pains comes an overwhelming sense of satisfaction, of being able to face the road ahead, whatever you may find along the way.

We encountered people from all walks of life on our journey, each experiencing their own outward accomplishments and internal epiphanies. Most fall to the ground in relief at crossing their personal finish line. Many cannot fight back tears of joy in achieving their goal.

For us, the weight we carried was more than emotional. My wife Erin was five months pregnant at the time. I toted 45lbs. on my back, which included my two-year-old son, who was happily oblivious to the struggle of each day’s final steps. Together we covered 76 miles in six days. To say it was physically demanding would be an understatement. It was the most challenging physical activity I had ever attempted.

It goes without saying that losing Allie changed our perspective forever. Today, we cherish memories above all else, and wanted to create one that would honor her in a unique way.

Along the trail, we tied pink ribbons made from one of our favorite dresses of Allie's to posts, trees, and bridges. We delighted at the thought of the next day’s walkers coming upon them. We thought especially of those who might smile at these little surprises, as they fought to take the next grueling step.

Completing the last mile of the Camino de Santiago is something we will never forget. It’s a memory we will return to again and again, reminding us of the strength we give each other during life’s most difficult times. Allie passed away on March 22, 2010. As we all know, loss and tragedy are part of the human experience, but putting one foot in front of the other, and continuing to move forward, is how we create better tomorrows.

Allie was with us for one year and 17 days, enlightening us to how fleeting time can suddenly feel. So to all of the seekers taking their first step in their Camino journey: May you find peace, resilience, and salvation in every single step — and carry that strength wherever life takes you.

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