Last Monday, we held a "Hail and Farewell" for two co-workers who were moving on to another career. These two men, combined, had more time with the organization than I have on the planet. While a sad night, the theme of workplace as family was noted by everyone present- the organization is a non-profit, and the employees are all passionate, dedicated people. In a conversation with my manager, I made a joke concerning my upcoming schedule, and told him, "I have no problem working New Year's Eve, or the Fourth of July, but I make it a point never to work on the Solemn Feast of Saint Patrick or Walpurgis Night." Weekends, Christmas, Thanksgiving- I've worked them all on one occasion or other, but these were two days I considered inviolable.
Well, yesterday I got a call from work- a co-worker, the gentleman I wrote about in December, was unable to come to work. Well, I had planned on attending the gathering of the tribe, but the work situation trumped even that. The tribe is doing well- after surviving centuries of strife and privation, we are thriving. Although I had planned to lend my moral support to the tribe, the family needed my material support that day.
Yeah, I lied to the boss on Monday night, and worked on a late winter day that put many spring days to shame. It was a quiet peaceful time, and I spent the day as sober as a Calvinist (until I got back to Yonkers around 9 P.M., that is). My duty to the family fulfilled, it was time to catch up with the tribe, which I found waiting for me... like it always does.