Red lights flashing

Outside the neighbors house sits a fire truck and ambulance ready to carry an elderly man to the hospital. I wait and watch the crew enter the house in the same fashion they would enter their own home. They walk not run, and they chat instead of calculate their procedures.
Moments later they exit with the man on the gurney in the exact fashion they entered. He has no wires, he's sitting up and is awake.
I don't know why I had to watch up until the moment they drove away but I did. I usually do. People generally do.
A day will come when I have to worry about ambulances and frantic, hectic moments with a sick parent or possibly another family member. Because of my mom's diagnoses, I am assuming this will happen to and with her, but that's not necessarily destined. I really didn't know who was going to be on that gurney when they came out. It could have been the elderly wife who seems to be in great shape. She picks up the paper every morning. She fiddles around in the yard with her daughter. Her daughter lives there and has since I moved here four years ago.
The daughter is approximately 45. She appears to be a spinster since she has no husband and children that I know of. Anyway, she could have been on the gurney instead of her father. That's why I had to watch.
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I often think of my parents along with their health, their past and futures.
They don't know this, but sometimes I write their eulogies in my head. Sometimes it's too hard to even fathom anyone I love dying, so I do it now just so I am not wordless when the day comes. I will admit that I do my mom's more than the others because I assume it's imminent and I wish that weren't true.
My mother and I seem to be striking a balance lately. She sees that I am not an open book and that I don't like to be, and I actually can't be everything to anyone because there are so many people around that I love and want to have a piece of me/my girls.
In times like this, when the drama is low, she's easy to love. She speaks gently with understanding and without judgment or insult. She goes out of her way to lovingly help. For instance, on our anniversary, she babysat at our house and when we came home the house was a bit cleaner than when I left. Bella's laundry was put away and she was generally happy, which is nice to see. She has a touch, both literally and figuratively, that is tender and beautiful. It's the other side.
This side is my favorite mother.
She can only be truly personified with long stories over wine so that is why my thoughts go where they go. I see myself in the car behind the ambulance on the way to the hospital. I imagine what would be going on in the home if it were me or mine. I am not ready and never will be. One might say, "Who is?". I have no idea but I think this way. As dark and pessimistic as that is, it just is and there is no real way around it.
I hope our neighbor is okay and makes it home tomorrow. I know it could have been me there waiting with bated breath for help to arrive and that stirs my emotions. I know how scared they must be knowing that his body is the way it is and it will eventually give out.