Pilgrimage: Maybe Holy Is Just The Easiest Word to Pronounce, Maybe It’s Just The First Word That Comes to Mind

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It is 5:20am. Laura rides on a train headed in the opposite direction toward Stuttgart, and I ride home toward Tübingen. For the past week, we have been exploring Germany together. We snuck through the holy silence of a monastery, drank beer and ate Wurste in the jubilant expanse of the Botanischer Garten, walked through endless parks with an eye for mischief, sampled every piece of equipment on every playground we passed, trekked to the top of a mountain to explore a Prussian castle, pretended to understand contemporary art in Freiburg, and got lost in the Black Forest.

But she’s got a new adventure to pursue—study abroad in Russia. She will arrive in St. Petersburg this afternoon. There is pain in parting and joy in joining. There are words I am still learning to pronounce and emotions I am still learning have no words. In the week she has been here, we’ve navigated extremely frustrating situations (becoming lost on trains or in downtowns on rainy afternoons) and have come to better terms about what it means to work together, to trust one another even when we’re both fairly clueless. Now there exists an ending, a finale, a closing credits for our small and strange adventure.

But stories do not end. They just fade to black, to be continued imprinted across the screen.

The sun rises above the horizon, first its pink tentacles and then its orange halo, bathing the sky sherbet. There is sadness in parting, but have you ever seen pollution paint the sky so vivid? Have you ever gotten so much cloud stuck on your face, its candy floss sugar won’t scrub free for days? Have you ever kissed someone you love?

You should try this, at least once. It’s like walking into an abandoned church, praying among the pews of teeth, and knowing the meaning of grace. And knowing that grace is just a word for something we cannot yet say. It’s a grunt for the non-verbal secret we can never quietly tell.

About derekberry

Derek Berry is a novelist, poet, and student located in Charleston, SC.

Posted on May 19, 2015, in author, germany, Pilgrimage, Pilgrimage Vignettes, travel, writer, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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