People pay attention to the lights and sirens of emergency vehicles for many different reasons:
For some, there is a natural curiosity of what might be going on;
For others, they feel the urgency to make way and respect the first responders;
I loved trying to catch a glimpse of the unit in the hope that I could see my Sweetheart.
If I knew there was potential for it to be his truck in the area, I'd move to the side and then try my hardest to see the unit markings and try to see him up front. It didn't happen much, but sometimes it did. Sometimes I was already on my way to see him - I'd give a "I know you've got to go, baby" wave as we passed in opposite directions. When I'd tell him later that we crossed, he never noticed - he was in work mode anyways. But I knew. I got the chance to see him in his element.
I usually continued on to the station and waited in the hope that I could still catch him after a cancel or on a quick turn-around. Sometimes I'd get started on the dinner that I was planning to make; it all depended on the station. Some you had to show up with food hot and ready and hope that there was enough of a lull to chat while you finished it; others you had pretty good odds that you could stay a while and maybe even prep there.
If meals plans had to be canceled, I'd prep a plate for him or leave the leftovers somewhere he could grab quickly, scratching a quick "I love you. Be Safe." on a note or piece of computer paper.
I turn away now when that reminder is present. I don't want to look, I don't want to wonder. There is nobody that I could catch a glimpse of any longer that will make my heart pause and bring a smile to my face. The sirens are now an approaching flashback to what is just memories and the lights a bright burning reminder of love lost.
I wish they could be removed entirely.
