Sindy died tonight.

Sindy died tonight.

I didn’t know her, except I knew her big smile and the way she made and held eye contact when she took my debit card through the McDonald’s drive thru window. I didn’t know her except I saw she’d lost her hair, and first stumbled over asking her the question, “is it Cancer,” because what if it wasn’t cancer. What if it was just hormones or anxiety or age or some other less sensationalistic way to die. But then I heard, by way of social media and the grapevine, that it was cancer. That Cancer had returned over and over for Sindy and had left her body a shell, just a smile and painted nails, but her spirit intact.

I jumped on the social good bandwagon and gave money to help Sindy fly to Florida, one time before she died. I reveled in her photos, thankful that my little bit could play a little part in her life’s little happiness, as it ended. When, again, she was brought to my attention, I sent money for a food train. I didn’t send a meal because, let’s be honest, I’m the sort of girl found in the McDonald’s drive thru ordering ten ten piece chicken nuggets but, a gift card I could do.

I didn’t get to put that money into Sindy’s hand directly but I hope it got to her, handed through some chain of windows, before she died. And if it didn’t, I guess it’s okay too because I think Sindy may have been the type of person that hoped the chain of…