A couple of years back, I was out shopping with my family. Very much easier to convince the payer on the spot rather than pay by plastic and then feel guilty for such an unnecessary purchase which I end up financing myself you see. So anyway, I walked into a shop with a lone male assistant in it. He minded his business and me mine. All of a sudden, he comes up to me and my mum and goes like, “Hi Mrs. XXXX! I don’t know whether you remember me but I was once a patient of your husband. How is he?”

OK, little bit of history here. My dad was a doctor and he very frequently did pro bono work. Not that I think it’s not great and stuff but there were no shortage of opportunists taking advantage of him. Free consults, I get it. Free meds? Come on.

Neither me nor mum recognizes this dude and we reckon my dad was really really nice to him for him to actually remember us (mum worked, so she wasn’t around much but I hung out there every afternoon) from 10+ years back. Deciding it was a lot easier to say he’s OK rather informing him of my dad’s demise, we got out of the store faster than you can say scram.

It’s nice to see how even after death your legacy lingers on.


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