Candy (definitely not dandy)

About eighteen months ago there was a robbery and shooting at a local Rite Aid.  The person who was shot died at the scene in the arms of Candy.  So, cut away to my therapist's office and a meek voice asked me if I lived nearby.  When I heard her voice I knew I knew her.  It was Candy.  We talked for a while, waiting for our respective therapists.  She was on disability and had not been able to return to either Rite Aid or any type of work.  She told me how she held the dying pharmacist in her arms.  She returned to the building, she said, as no one should die alone.  Here is a life that was literally shattered by violence.  We talked about robberies in general and I told her about the time I was held up at gun point when I was working at the Bay Gas Station,  I almost quit on the spot.  What I did was refuse to work alone at night.  Anyway, Candy was called back to her therapist and she stood up and gave me a big hug.  I felt her fear, her trembling, her PTSD that instant.  I felt a connection I hoped she felt as well.  It was the type of situation where I wished I could kiss the hurt and make it all better,   No one should die alone.  No one should have to live with that kind of fear and hurt.