As I stepped out of the taxi, my gaze fell upon the empty driveway. Thanks to one man, it was now the first reminder my husband and children would never be coming home again. Paying the fare, I barely registered the driver's appreciation before he took off down the street. I was too busy trying to catch my breath as I stared up at the two story house my husband and I had bought almost fifteen years ago.

Many things about it had changed since the moment we had been handed the keys: new garage doors after ours quit working, bikes occupying the space between our cars after welcoming two rambunctious boys, and new cars when we outgrew the old ones. Just recently for Mother's Day, Spencer and Charlie planted tulips which they knew were my favorite flowers, Greg painted the front door a navy blue and hung the wreath I never got around to hanging up.

Pulling the keys out of my pocket, I brushed my fingers against those same green pines before entering the house. The faint smell of Greg's lemon cologne wafted through the air as I opened the front door. I hadn't loved the smell of his cologne the first time he had bought it from the store. However, over the years that smell had become my safe place. Now it only brought tears to my eyes.

The last morning we had been together had been chaotic. I had been all too eager to get out of the house on time. The boys were bouncing off the wall, thanks to Greg's chocolate chip pancakes. It was the reason we only indulged in them before we went on vacation. So, in a moment of sanity, we had sent the boys outside to run off some of their energy.

Now I wished I had wrapped my arms around them before they had buckled up in the car. If only I had kissed their cheeks one more time, even though Spencer would respond with disgust and insist he was getting too old to receive kisses from his mother. If only he had known just how deep a mother's love ran, he would never reject one ever again.

No longer able to hold back my tears, I pulled harshly against the blinds until the light had dimmed in the house. I could no longer handle sympathy from my co-workers, so I walked out of the hospital before they knew I was gone. I needed to be able to scream and cry without feeling like everyone was watching me. I needed to find some way to stay close to my husband and children, and the only way I could do that is if I went home.

So, that's what I did. I heard people knock on the door more than a few times, but I was too exhausted to get up and check what people might have left. I could only imagine the news of my family's death was spreading to everyone we knew, and it was too much for me to physically accept their sympathies at this moment in time.

Allowing my eyes to finally close, I blocked out everything happening around me. When I finally awoke a chill ran through my body as I left the warmth of the couch. I made the careful steps to the kitchen, dimming the lights to the lowest setting. According to the kitchen clock, it was nearly ten o'clock, and there was no more knocking that I felt like I could finally venture out of my house for a few minutes.

As I switched on the patio light, I was taken aback at all the gifts and food that had been left at my doorstep; all the cards that had been taped to my door. I felt overwhelmed as I stacked all sizes of envelopes against the bottom step. When that step was full, I stacked them on the tile floor and worked on moving all the gifts into my living room.

I didn't think it was possible to cry so much. I couldn't stop the tears from falling down my cheeks, from the time my hand touched that first envelope to the very last gift left on my doorstep. It was amazing. Beyond overwhelming. I felt weak in the knees as I stared at gifts now filling a small portion of my living room. In just eight short hours since I had been home from the hospital, there had been an outpouring of love in my behalf, and suddenly I wished my husband and children could be here to see this. I began to question if they could see what I was seeing.

It made my heart ache when it sunk in that people were only showing kindness because my husband and children had died, yet it didn't feel like they were really gone. I couldn't get over the feeling that they were still here with me. That I still had many things to discover about them, many stories that would undoubtedly be filed away in my mind. I didn't know how I would get the energy to do it all.

As if the universe had been reading my thoughts, I heard a soft knock on my door. I had half a mind to turn out the lights and not respond, but as soon as I had looked out the window, I knew I had to open that door or he would never leave.

"Jesse." I stated hoarsely, using my voice for the first time that day. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm making sure you're alright." He said, shooting me a stern look. Jesse was one of the kindest and one of the knowlegable nurses I had the pleasure of working with. When it came down to a moment we were struggling, we were fiercly protective of one another. This was one of those moments. "I've been calling you all day."

"You haven't been getting through because my phone was destroyed, and we have no home phone." I opened the door wider so he could enter the house. "I can barely deal with all this." I motioned wildly to the envelopes and gifts sitting on my floor. "How do you think I can deal with everyone else asking me if I'm okay?"

"Fair point." Jesse held his hands up in surrender as his eyes sparkled in awe at all the gifts and cards sent my way. "Looks like the neighborhood blew up in here already."

Letting out a sobbing laugh, my vision blurred with tears. "Found them all sitting outside my door waiting to come in."

"How thoughtful of them to wait." He stated sarcastically, casting a smile in my direction as the room fell silent between us.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"You're the only one who could make me laugh at a time like this."

"Isn't that how we roll?" He inquired, not missing a beat. Just one reason I loved Jesse. He always seemed gruff on the outside, but on the inside he was just a giant teddy bear. If you won his heart with friendship, he would always be there for you when you needed him the most.

"Speaking of neighbors, I think you're going to want to see this." He said, peering through my living room blinds, then crossed the room so we could head outside together.

As we stood in the middle of the patio, there were many recognizable faces standing there with signs and holding flickering candles in honor of my husband and children. As a doctor, I had been to many of candelight vigils over the years to pay tribute to my patients who had passed along the way. Never had I been on the receiving end until this moment.

"Jesse, did you put this together?"

"I did not."

"This is not just my neighbors." I covered my mouth, unable to speak as I looked into the crowd of people. "This is friends, patients and families who I cared for over the years. How did word spread so quickly?"

"You'll learn love has no boundaries in a situation like this." He responded as I gave his hand a gentle squeeze.