I spoke to an old friend from a place long since evacuated by me and mine. Through his angst and frustration, an excerpt from George Orwell’s Animal Farm came to mind. It is as follows:
In a very little while the animals had destroyed everything that reminded them of Mr. Jones. Napoleon then led them back to the store-shed and served out a double ration of corn to everybody, with two biscuits for each dog. Then they sang Beasts of England from end to end several times running, and after that they settled down for the night and slept as they had never slept before.
But they woke at dawn as usual, and suddenly remembering the glorious things that had happened they all raced out into the pasture together. A little way down the pasture there was a knoll that commanded a view of most of the farm. The animals rushed to the top of it and gazed around them in the clear morning light.
Yes, it was theirs—everything that they could see was theirs!In the ecstasy of that thought they gamboled round and round, they hurled themselves into the air in great leaps of excitement. They rolled in the dew, they cropped mouthfuls of the sweet summer grass, they kicked up clods of the black earth and snuffed its rich scent.
Then they made a tour of inspection of the whole farm and surveyed with speechless admiration the ploughland, the hayfeld, the orchard, the pool, the spinney. It was as though they had never seen these things before, and now they could hardly believe that it was all their own.
Keep in mind old friend that although they tried to eradicate all memories of Farmer Jones, before too long the pigs were living in the house, making merry, associating with all of Farmer Jones’ old friends and try as they might, they didn’t successfully kill the memories before the old swine got their way.
Chin up!