Blast from the past

“It was the Fourth of July, and as luck would have it, I was in the hospital recovering from gallbladder surgery. With no family nearby and feeling a bit low, I shared with my nurse how I missed being a kid and going to the fireworks show downtown with my parents.

“Her eyes grew nostalgic as she told me about the grand fireworks show she would go to as a young girl at her grandparents’ lake house. We both agreed those were some of the best times of our lives.

“That night, that same nurse came into my room. I knew she was supposed to be off duty by then, so I asked if someone had called in sick. She simply smiled and turned on the TV just in time for the annual televised fireworks show. Giggling, she turned off the lights, pulled the drapes and sat on the edge of my bed, holding my hand. We both watched in awe as bursts of color filled the screen, each remembering days gone by. We even sang along to the patriotic songs that accompanied the spectacular display.

“Once the show was over,

I was aglow. I hadn’t felt like that giddy child in too long of a time. ‘Thank you,’ I said.

“‘Happy Fourth to you,’ she replied with a grin.

“As she said good night to me, I smiled, knowing that because of her thoughtfulness, this had been a special holiday for both of us—one we would always remember.” —Crystal Helms, 61, Lorain, OH