When We Had Wings

by Ariel Lawhon

“Is there anything you’ve loved about it?” The question wheeled Lita around. The reference to nursing sank in as Reyna’s eyes pushed once more for the God’s honest truth. So Lita contemplated. Her first thoughts leaped to the horrors she’d endured, the surgical assembly lines and screaming, the direct hits and deaths. But then came lighter memories stowed in the corners of her mind. She remembered the smiles of patients she’d saved, the bouts of laughter they shared. The satisfaction of removing bandages to find wounds healing and infections clearing. The simple gift of providing a comforting voice. She recalled the joy of waking to discover a soldier recovering who hadn’t been expected to last the night, and of listening to touching stories of fellows’ hometowns and sweethearts and families. And, of course, she thought of the soldiers whose hands she’d held when needed, at times through their final breaths. “Yes,” she answered at last. “I’ve loved quite a lot.”