Amongst The Brave

f i f t h t e e en

                              Two weeks later...
                 Pearl Harbor Nurses Living quarters.
                                    Amelia

"No, I am afraid today isn't a good day either..." Sandra's voice is barely within hearing range as I lay on my bed, basking in the warm rays that filter through my window. It's light being the only thing I've kept close to reality these days.

"...as I have been, I will make sure to tell her." She says as I hear the door softly shut. I wish this was the first day I have heard such a vague conversation she has held with a stranger on the front porch. But I would be lying, because truth be told it's the same she has held every other day since I held my own self hostage within these four walls. Hostage to endure the pain that follows after saying a final goodbye to not just a loved one, but the last remaining family you have. A dark truth in which I have been drowning two weeks in. Though saving has come and went, I've pushed each rescue attempt far from view. To be saved, I would want saving, and currently all I wanted was just to lie within this bed and pray for the what ifs to be true.

The heels of Sandra's shoes click against the wooden floors, slowing as they come to a stop just outside of Betty and mine bedroom door.

I don't have to question the who, or the her in Sandra's conversation held at our front door. It was close to the same as the day before, and two days before that— a conversation I've heard over the last two weeks. One in which that causes my heart to sink further into the darkened void. That notorious southern draw hand crafted straight out of Tennessee, was one that my heart will forever spark light too. No matter how deep the darkened depths I allow myself to be consumed with.

I missed him.

But more than that, I knew that the only saving I'd ever accept was from that he could only offer. Yet, I was at battle with myself as I stand ground on the last words I spoke to him that night, those fourteen days ago.

The door to my room slowly opens, as Sandra doesn't ask to be let inside anymore. Betty has hardly been here, and when she is I am fast asleep. I've told Sandra days ago that there wasn't a need to ask for permission to come inside, my heart already knew the news she was soon to speak.

My eyes stay glued to the sky that brightly yells blue outside my window. I feel as if no white clouds have come to view since the day we told at age goodbye, nor have there been many stars to light at night. A haunting truth in which wasnt.

"Amelia, you know I have no issue with handling things for you at the door, work, or even when the girls and I go out. But it's been two weeks, and every other day he is here to check on you...."

Reaching up just enough to feel the warmth that's been dancing over my face, I watch as my skin brightens under the  light that the forever forgiving sun delivers. It's just a careless act, possibly to try and avoid the reality of Sandra's voice. Two weeks, and the naval hospital has granted me the time off to grieve until I was ready to take my normal stand as nurse, again. As if there was a definite time period of how long one should mourn a loved one's passing.

But as I feel the touch of her palms fall upon my shoulder, I turn my attention to her face.

She has always been so calm. A natural nurturing  way given without intention, my fellow nurse friend who was several years older than myself was sitting in the edge of my bed, a caring smile stretching over her face. Just as she has always been, ever since we first met back in my first night after signing up to become a military nurse.  Sandra has always been the mom to our bunch. A heart made from the finest found good, she always shined with a comforting glow. One of which made even the coldest of heart spark tiny warmth.