The cost of loving

A story I watched unfold from my bedroom window

This morning, I turned the corner to approach the entrance of my neighborhood, coffee still warm in my hand, having just dropped the kids off at school. To my surprise, an ambulance sat at our gate, lights blazing against the quiet morning. Our neighborhood has a gate, and they couldn't get in (a problem I'm now actively working to solve). I furiously pressed the gate button in my car, watching as they quickly pulled through, my heart already sinking with knowing.

Bryan was driving out as I pulled in, and we stopped to exchange worried glances. Our neighborhood is one big loop with houses on the inside of the circle and houses on the outside facing the water on all sides — we live on a little peninsula of sorts. There are only so many places an ambulance could be going at 8:30 on a Thursday morning.

I hoped they wouldn't turn right toward our home and immediate neighbors.

They turned right.