6th of the month

Dear Mrs. M. Miller
I've never met you, but I feel like I know you. For almost 5 years, we got your call at our pharmacy like clock work. Every 6th of the month: Can I speak with the Pharmacist please!.... in a voice that I always mocked to resemble Towelie from South Park. It wasn't meant to be insulting, in fact endearing because I could hear the innocence in your voice. I heard determination of a strong woman who lived by herself for all these years but never once asked for favors. You lived a life most of us only wished we could. A life of honesty, love and respect. Most of all, you were successful. Your kids moved away, eventually withered away before you ever did, yet you moved on and carried on like a strong oxen that you are. You took no crap from anyone and even the hoodlums respected you. You stood tall at almost a good 4' nothin. Your friends left you eventually and the only interaction you had with this world so crowded with human beings- was when you called for your meds.
We never spoke more than "Did you need your refills, Mrs Miller?" but there was always an understanding that all was right in the world because of that one phone call. There was an unspoken bond that distinguished our relationship from any other customer. Your grace and dignity is what I most love about you. A little old black woman with the heart of a tigress about to conquer the world. You had the heart of a Spartan and the love of a mother. You cannot imagine when I heard about your physical death- all alone in your apartment and no one knew how long you were gone. I have learned so much from you in our little interaction every 6th of the month. You will always be alive in our hearts and your soul shines brightly among people you never even knew loved you. Every 6th of the month, we miss that phone call that put a smile on our faces no matter how busy we were.