Memorial Day (Tombstone)

Herself's last day with her former employer was one year ago, on the Friday before the Memorial Day weekend.  And as the year anniversary of her unmooring has arrived, so has the terrible sense of loss. On the one hand, it seems silly to grieve an employment change this way; yet on the other hand, she had started with that company even before she finished school, and before she got married.  It was part and parcel of all of her adult life. So perhaps it's not so surprising that the change -- although necessary -- was so wrenching.

Last year for Memorial Day, as they had for several years beforehand, Herself and the family took a trip to Tombstone, Arizona. It has been a very pleasant trip, with an opportunity to dress up nicely, several days of not having to cook, and time spent with family and friends. Nevertheless, last year, she was too heartbroken to enjoy the experience. Tombstone was full of ghosts:  the ghosts of Ottoman-shaped Dog and Ancient and Decrepit Dog, both gone within that past year, and the ghost of her previous employment. Other ghosts, small specters of sadness and despair, sensed the woe in the air and crowded in, too. A town watched over by Dementors, it was. A terrible place.

It is perhaps a relief that there is no visit to Tombstone this year. That hot, dusty, grief-imbued town will have to wait another day. Perhaps points north will bring relief. We shall see.