I have a gynecologist. Most women do.
Mine is an older man; a very kind hearted, gentle creature. Women are particular when it comes to filling this position in life. I'm convinced I have one of the best. My doctor was responsible for bringing my precious child into this world. He holds a special place in my heart...even though he may never know it.
In 2010, his wife passed away. They were on their way to Chile for a mission trip...something they did throughout their marriage. A kind, giving man, married to a driven and generous woman. They must have been quite the pair.
I never knew quite what to say when my yearly visit rolled around after that event. "I'm sorry for your loss," just never sounded like enough. But it was all I had for this precious stranger.
This past summer, my doctor's daughter was married. He stood there and gave her away...alone. It broke my heart for him and his daughter that the mother was not there to share in that moment. I know her loss was felt heavily that day.
I pictured him delving deeper into his work to pass the time. I know doctors do this anyways...work a lot.
Recently however, I've spotted him...in the most unusual places.
There's a restaurant here that can only be described as a "dive". It serves seafood and the patrons eat off of bucket lids while they sit at picnic tables in concrete block rooms covered in graffiti and signatures. Yes, it looks this bad...but tastes amazing.
A few weeks ago, I spotted my doctor there. He was still in his scrubs. It was an unusual sight for me and not at all where I ever pictured him to be. We waved excitedly, but left him alone because he was there with someone.
This past weekend. I caught a glimpse of him again. This time at the Gun and Knife show at the fairgrounds. I almost didn't recognize him. He was wearing blue jeans and was holding a box of popcorn. There was an eagerness about him, and it was at that moment I caught a glimpse of the little boy in him. That distinguished, very prominent image of him was trumped by this curious man eating his popcorn, very interested in all the toys laid out on the tables. A manly wonderland of items.
It made me happy to see him like this. To see him out and about and doing something he enjoyed...and feeding his inner child; living life.
I am amused at the anticipation I feel for where I'll find him next and intrigued by my concern for his well being. I am one of thousands of patients he has seen, so I don't expect to really be known to him. However, he will always remain precious to me.