I looked death in the eyes and I could not help her.

 

Finding myself through writing.

DAY ONE OF BLOGGING:
In my quest to understand my life, I had decided recently to discover my past. I have spent the last 4 months looking at my family and our roots. I had seen history being played out in the lives of so many of my dead relatives. It’s been a moving experience and has compelled me to tell the story of the dead. I began thinking about blogging about my genealogy discoveries , but certainly did not want to bore folks. So today I begin this journey, but it was not easy to get to this point. Recently I had an experience that influenced me beyond measure to create this blog and get rolling with it.
On May 1st, I had to go to the pharmacy as I usually do almost every two weeks for the past year.. Because of this, I had developed a nice relationship with my pharmacist. She was always busy, however, she made the time to say a kind word to you. She wanted to take a minute with you trying to understand where you were in your life and with your health. She knew I had fought a hard fight with an infection that riddled my body very weak last year. She saw me through a rough year as my pharmacist. That meant something to me. This particular afternoon, she looked so tired and run down so I just picked up my medicine and walked away from the counter. For some reason, I decided to look around at her as she went back to counting someone else’s pills and she must have felt my presence looking upon her. I saw death in her eyes and knew it, but walked off.
I know your thinking how can I say this? I don’t know really how I can, but I knew it. I gave her a quick glance of acknowledgement and a small smile and that was the last time I saw her. I then forgot about the feeling I had until 11 days later when I made my usual by monthly trip into the pharmacy. There was a note up on the counter explaining that she had died suddenly on May 3rd less than 48 hours after our eyes met for the last time. In the process of assimilating this information, I thought back on that brief encounter of our eyes meeting for a split second where I thought she looked like she was dying. I felt ashamed and guilty.. Why could I not have done something? After all I am a nurse and have been trained to help others with their health issues also.
In the days that have followed her untimely death, I learned more about this lovely woman. She sang in her Lutheran church choir. She also always tried to give a helping hand to those that did not have enough. She even paid for her patients’ meds when they did not have enough money, Her story made me think it needed to be told. In fact a lot of life stories need to be told. She made me realize this.