Remembering Mary seems strange because she was someone I didn’t know well or long. However, the several times I saw her during my doctor’s appointments, she was courteous and pleasant, greeting me with huge smiles on every visit. She would converse with me as if we were familiar with each other.

She never made me feel like I was disturbing her when I called the office for a prescription refill or test results.

One dark, muggy day in August, as I waited at the receptionist desk at my doctor’s office, I noticed a picture of Mary on the counter in the receptionist area. She was gleaming as well. I smiled to myself, thinking she had received some kind of award. However, as I read the sentences printed under the picture, I realized Mary was dead. I thought, OMG-maybe she had been sick or something.

I inquired from the receptionist about May, and she angrily and tearfully told me that Mary was dead. Her husband killed her! Again , I was like, OMG!

Today when I think about Mary, I am still bothered by what happened to her because I know what happened to her could have happened to me, and what could have happened to me, unfortunately, will happen to someone else.

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