Remembering Anne
Yesterday was 27 September. I was at work and busy, but in my few moments of downtime I had the feeling that something big had happened on this date. It was one of those events that changed all the days after it. What was it? It wasn't an anniversary. It wasn't a birthday. It had nothing to do with a job change. The thought teased the back of my mind. What could it be? Later that afternoon it hit me. September 27 was the day that Anne was killed in a car wreck. Anne was the wife of Scott, who was my boss. He and I had started working together in Wisconsin. Since he and his family and I were all transplants to the town we lived in, he suggested I might want to get to know his wife. She was also a pharmacist who had taken time away from her career while their two children were small. Now that they were school age, she was working part time. I was planning on becoming acquainted with Anne anyway. I felt it was a...