Finally Home

41. Samantha

Christmas couldn't come fast enough. I continued to work really hard in therapy and physio so I could be hopefully off my crutches by then. I didn't really need them exactly. I could walk, but the muscles in my right leg needed a little extra help.

Two weeks before Christmas break, my physiotherapist declared I could move to one crutch or a cane. I stuck with a crutch for now.

"Mom!" I called out from my room where I was packing. I left for California in two days.

"Yeah?" She said, poking her head in.

"Do I need my passport to go to California?"

"Technically, no. But it's your only ID, really. So yes."

I looked at her confused. Mom laughed.

"No. You don't need a passport to fly to California."

"But bring it because it's my only form of ID?"

"Exactly," Mom said. I nodded.

Mom stayed in my doorway while I was packing. She kept watching and smiling.

"Um?" I asked, tossing underwear and bras into my bag.

"I'm just watching," Mom said.

"I can see that. Did you need something else?"

"Nope.  Just watching you. In awe. As I usually am," she said.

"Oookay," I said. "You're weird." 

"Takes one to know one," Mom smiled. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm just so impressed by you. You've worked so hard to come back from that accident. And despite a few small issues, you're doing amazing."

I blushed. The hearing aid had actually helped. I didn't hear the buzzing in my right ear as much when I wore it. So my math mark was back up, and I could concentrate better.

Between that and physio and working with Doc and the neurologist, I felt like things were really falling into place.

"Okay," I said. "I think I'm all packed."

I looked around my room. I would pack my chargers to my phone and watch later. I made a list of the things that I needed to pack the morning I left. Because I'd need them between now and then.

I had a few extra infusion kits already in my bag, and an extra test kit. I'd also keep one in my backpack.

Mom put her arms out and I went over and hugged her.

"How's the leg feel?" She asked.

"Not bad," I said, shifting my weight onto my right leg. "I can weight bear on it more."

"Good," Mon smiled.

We went downstairs to get ready for dinner. Rosie and Dad were already there. Dad was playing "Baby Shark" and Rosie was dancing to it.

"Sammy shark!" Rosie cried out and Dad started playing the tune.

"Sammy shark, do do do do," he sang. Mom and I took video. Rosie was too adorable and Dad is probably the only person in the world who can make 'Baby Shark' tolerable. Uncle Brendon was probably also one of the only ones.

I laughed and picked Rosie up.

"Rosie shark, do do do do do," I sang to her.

"No! Sammy shark first!" She giggled as I twirled her around. Dad kept playing the piano. Rosie was bouncing and dancing. It was so much fun just being around her.

"Alright, Josephs. It's dinner time," Mom said. We went into the kitchen and I put Rosie in her booster seat and helped Mom bring dinner to the table. We were having salmon and rice with broccoli and a salad.

We sat and ate and talked about my upcoming trip and the last basketball game my team had played against Columbus Prep. Which we'd won. Easily. Because I knew their style and we tailored our game.

Coach kept saying I really ought to consider a coaching career. And that coaching didn't mean not being able to play first. It was something to consider.

After dinner, we sat around talking, singing and watching Rosie dance.

At 8, Mom said it was Rosie's bedtime. Once she was in bed, Mom, Dad and I sat in the living room watching TV and chatting.

It was nice. We really just sat talking. I couldn't help but wonder, if Stanley were still alive, and if I still lived with him, would I even still be alive? And if so, would I have the type of friends I have now?  Would I have any friends even?

After my mom died, Stanley's abuse got worse. More physical and he upped the psychological abuse as well.

Dad was looking at me.

"What?" I said.

"I asked you if you were all packed. Where did you go?"

"I was just thinking," I said.

"Uh oh. That's never good," Dad winked.

I smiled. Then I leaned into Mom and hugged her.

"What's that for? Not that I'm complaining."

"Well, I was just thinking about how awesome it it to just sit here and talk with you and Dad. I was wondering, well, more reflecting on how things could have been."

Dad frowned because he knew that meant I was thinking about Stanley.

"Don't worry, Dad," I said. "It was good thoughts. I was looking at my life now and appreciating it. Wondering what things would look like of Stanley and all that ... stuff ... hadn't happened. Not dwelling on what happened, but just wondering and appreciating."

Dad leaned over and hugged me. Mom had her arms around me.

"I can't imagine our life without you in it anymore," Dad said. "You're the missing piece. You're what made us a family."

I smiled at him and then up at Mom. She nodded.

"Thanks, Mom and Dad. For everything. For giving me my life. For encouraging me. And for dealing with... well... everything."

"We are so proud of who you're becoming," Mom said. "And how hard you work to come back from any setback. You don't let things get you down. Dad's right. You made us a family."

I snuggled more into Mom and she played with my hair while we watched some TV and continued chatting.

I fell asleep that way and Dad carried me up to bed.

"Good night, you amazing kid," he whispered.

"'Night, Dad," I mumbled and rolled over.