06/26/2025
THEY WAITED FOR THE GARBAGE TRUCK EVERY MONDAY—AND THEN SOMETHING CHANGED
Every Monday, like clockwork, my twins would be waiting out front for the garbage truck. Jesse in his dinosaur pajama bottoms, Lila in her favorite glittery tutu, both barefoot and bouncing with excitement. And every Monday, Rashad and Theo—our sanitation crew—would show up like rockstars.
It started small. A honk here, a high five there. Then they let the twins pull the lever once, and that sealed the deal. From then on, Monday mornings were sacred.
But then came that Monday.
I don’t remember much. I’d been feeling off all weekend—lightheaded, shaky—but figured it was just exhaustion. I was running on fumes trying to juggle work, bills, and two four-year-olds solo since their dad had taken a temporary contract out of town. I must’ve blacked out sometime after putting out the trash.
What I didn’t know—what still sends chills down my spine—is that Jesse and Lila had gone outside like usual… but I never followed.
When Rashad and Theo pulled up and saw the twins standing there alone, barefoot, crying, something must’ve clicked. They jumped out of the truck, didn’t hesitate. One stayed with the kids while the other ran up to the door, banged, and when no one answered, forced it open.
They found me passed out cold on the kitchen floor.
They called 911, got help on the way, and even managed to find my phone to call my husband. By the time the ambulance arrived, they had Lila wrapped in Theo’s safety vest and Jesse riding shotgun in the truck to distract him.
I came to in the ER a few hours later.
The first thing I asked was, “Where are my babies?”
The nurse smiled and said, “With their heroes.”
And just before she walked out, she added something that made my breath catch—
— — continues in the first 🗨️⬇️ — —
