Dawn Berkoski

The Wild West.

I always wanted to go to Tombstone, Arizona. A stroll through the past. A dust covered street where cowboys lived, and gunfights might erupt at any time. In my mind, it was an important historical recreation, something new to experience. But the reality was different from my imagination.

I walked along the rickety plank sidewalk, weaving in and out of little shops and funhouses. I thought of my mother. She loved trinkets and tourist traps, and she had been to Tombstone once before. Her voice held excitement as she told me all about her visit.

“It’s fun!” she said. “We’ll have to go together.”

But she passed away before we had the chance.

So, there I was, a few days after her death, shaky from the nightmares of her final days battling cancer, wandering a town called Tombstone.

I stopped to watch some tourists dress up in long gowns and bonnets, vests and cowboy hats, pretending to get shot during the 1881 gunfight at the O.K. Corral. It was… disturbing. My stomach turned. I started to feel uneasy. Everyone was laughing and having a good time, a fun family trip, but I wanted to leave. I thought of all the children who died from gun violence. Images of school hallways that haunt me still, and I tried to block it out as I watched the tourists fall. This was the harsh reality of life in those times. This was history!

This was now.

And yet, as ill as I felt, sick with death, it helped me process my grief. I wasn’t alone. This thread connects us all. Love, loss, life, and what it means to live as if our lives depend on it. Everything could end with the flick of a finger.

“Don’t wait, Dawn.” I could hear my mother’s voice. “Live! Love! Laugh!”

I listened. I walked away from the gunfight, the violence, those dark moments, and explored other attractions, a haunted museum, the jailhouse, the historic courthouse, and the home of Wyatt Earp. I learned about Annie Oakley, who developed her sharp shooting skills to feed her family. I appreciated my time walking in the footsteps of the deceased. And when I left Tombstone, I left the past where it belonged.

Dawn B~