SEASK.NET

But I felt safe when she was there—held together by the quiet strength she carried like a second heartbeat.

Life went on. I healed. My son grew. And eventually, those nights faded into the background of memory… or so I thought.

Two years later, I was folding laundry while the evening news played in the background. I wasn’t really watching—until I heard a familiar voice.

I looked up, and there she was on the screen.

The nurse.

The same soft smile, the same steady gaze that had pulled me back from the edge when everything was falling apart.

The reporter introduced her as a community volunteer who organized nighttime support for families with newborns in intensive care—a woman who spent her days working grueling hospital shifts and her nights comforting strangers going through the darkest moments of their lives.

But then the story shifted.

Continue reading…