I Don’t Want Her You can Have her  

Several years after my wife died, Mandy’s common-law-husband passed away. Mandy was a tall, full-figured, and slovenly woman. Because of her frequent visits to the hospital, she knew my wife had passed away. When she would bump into me, she’d say, “I heard your wife died. I am so sorry!” and I was given a bone crushing hug.

So when I found out that her common-law-husband died, I extended my condolences to her just as she’d done to me, minus the hug. Tears came into her eyes and she said, “I know you understand what I’m feeling, Tom” and she gave me her usual hugs. She was the same person dressed in her dirty Banlon shirt and double knit pants, but she was going through hard times. It was a tender moment and I wouldn’t allow my squeamish feelings of being squashed to intrude.

After that wherever she met me, I was greeted with the usual bear hug. I began to keep an even sharper eye out for her and ran in the opposite direction before she came within arm’s reach. Sometimes she’d catch sight of me and call out, but I’d only wave and do a ninety degree turn down a hallway to escape.

This worked for several months until one night. I was in the main lobby waiting for the elevator, when the doors popped open, there she was… standing in front of me in all of her glory. I couldn’t avoid her without seeming grossly offensive and rude. I cringed inside knowing that the inevitable hug was coming. And it did. We talked for a few seconds before I made my escape. She waved to me as I walked past her and into the elevator.

Later that evening, I tried to stick my pen into my shirt pocket. It snagged on something. I found a folded piece of paper. On the slip was Mandy’s name and telephone number. “How did she get it there without me feeling it?” I thought, “She had to be planning this for some time.”

This was too much not to share with someone else. I hurried to the medical records department to see Bill, another nurse with whom I’d worked in the emergency department. He’d transferred to medical records when he got “burned out” in the emergency room.He looked a lot like me and some patients got us confused when we still both worked in the emergency department. Mandy was one who was confused us. She’d sometimes call me Bill or call Bill by my name. That was okay with me. Maybe he’d get blamed for something I’d done.

When I showed him the note he said, “She’s all yours buddy, I’m already married.”