An ambulance pulls into a triage bay, it’s lights still on.
As they rush around their vehicle
we take our time getting into ours.
The click of our carseat into its base matches
the clank of gurney wheels on pavement.
One body goes into this place, clinging to life,
another comes out breathing in its newness.
A daily occurrence here –
one life for another.
A year and four months earlier,
I walked out of a hospital,
motherless,
orphaned,
leaving behind a body after
years of fighting cancer until
it couldn’t anymore.
If I had looked, paid attention,
even a little bit, as I left the hospital
that morning,
maybe I would have seen a young couple
clip a car seat into their car to head home,
amazed at just how precious life is.
Just as I was then.
Just as I am now.