We live on a cul-de-sac. The complex is laid out in circles and we are in the middle of it all. With the bedroom door slightly opened last night, we were awakened by the sound of a different loud engine circling from the next street onto ours. We don’t have any noise here, especially at night and it was loud enough to wake us up.
It was 3:15AM; we got out of bed and peaked out the front window. A huge fire truck was parked in front of our house. We watched an as ambulance arrived and were surprised it stopped at the house in the far corner.
When we moved here in 1982, Anne used to live in that house. She was a teeny, tiny older woman with a shock of red hair who drove a huge Cadillac. Her daughter and son-in-law, Betty and Roy, moved in with her after she had an accident and had to give up her car. At her funeral years later, they told stories about her always being remembered sitting on a bar stool with a martini in one hand, a cigarette in the other and wearing her high heels. Perfect visual. I loved her.
Years later, both Betty and Roy developed health issues. Betty had lung and circulation problems while Roy had a heart attack. Both recovered and Roy has continued to work.
Last night made me very nervous.
This morning, it doesn't look good. Their driveway was full of cars. Relatives had been called.
I am hoping for the best.
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