Revive

Prologue

Blair
~      •      ~

It wasn't exactly ideal. I didn't want to start over with my brother and father tagging along. I mean, what twenty-three year old girl wants to travel cross country for college with their dad and brother?
It was supposed to be a new beginning. A chance to start over. My entire life had hit a brick wall and I was just standing there like there wasn't a way around. I desperately needed a major change.
I had waited (what I felt was) too long to decide to go back to school but it seemed like my only escape plan. And when I put the plan into motion I definitely didn't expect my dad to jump in on the idea too.
Dad thought it would be a good idea to keep his family together. The moment I told him I was looking for out of state colleges, he was on the phone with a realtor.
It wasn't long after my acceptance letter came through the mail that our house went up on the market. My father was eager to leave our old home behind.
Truth be told, it wasn't much of a home anymore. It was merely a residence. A building whose only purpose was to keep us safe from the weather.
My little brother, Harlan, was ready to leave the house in the rear view himself. Most of the time, he was staying with a friend anyway. Any excuse he could find to not be home, he would use it.
Perhaps it was that we all deserved a new beginning. Maybe that's what it was that was making them tag along so easy to accept. There was no need to be aggravated about us all making the move because it was the change we all needed.
The last few years had thrown us through the ringer. My mom passed away not long after my twentieth birthday. Her death was rough, it nearly destroyed us all.
It seems we as humans spend a lot of our lives trying to prepare ourselves for death. Whether it's ourselves or our loved ones, we have to remind ourselves that death is inevitable. Where that may be the truth, when it's unexpected, there is a sort of gut wrenching pain and unshakable grief that comes with it. Especially when it's your mother. And what you'll never be prepared for, inevitable or not, is that pain.
It was a car accident, in the middle of February. A particularly bad snowstorm swept through our hometown with a vengeance. It brought high winds and ice and below zero temperature. Power went out across the county and local shelters had to be opened to those who needed a place to get warm.
Mom was volunteering at one of the shelters. She was a nurse and they needed someone to assist with a surplus of elderly folks and their medical equipment. Mom spent hours at this shelter making sure oxygen tanks and bed ridden patients were cared for.
The roads were horrible, we got more than a foot of snow in eight hours. The department of highways could hardly keep up. Dad tried to convince Mom to stay at the shelter that night but she wanted to be with us.
She was less than a mile from home when she rolled her car. Dad did everything he could to make sure we didn't see the press release with the photos of her mangled car but in the age of social media he could only do so much.
I never saw it but I know that Harlan did. He sort of sought out the images and I never understood why he inflicted such pain on himself. I couldn't bear to see the pictures but I know they had to have been bad. When the snow had melted, you could see the spot on the tree she'd hit. It was missing so much bark it was wonder it still stood. I would glare at that tree every time I drove by it like it was personally accountable for her death.
Mom's death was upsetting for a lot of different obvious reasons. But I think what made me the most upset was that she had spent her whole day volunteering and putting good into the universe and that's what the universe gave her in return. All that woman had was good karma and she still was dealt a shit hand.
Her death affected us all differently. Harlan was fifteen at the time. He had always been a momma's boy. I thought Dad had taken the news hard but Harlan didn't leave his room for weeks. It hit Harlan in a different way than it had Dad. Mom was the love of Dad's life but she was Harlan's mother and that's a different kind of love. And you could see the difference in the two in the ways it impacted them both.
Mom and Dad were soulmates. They were made for one another. And I'm not just saying that because they're my parents. I mean, they were each others' one true love. Dad never stopped showing Mom how much he cared. Flowers for no reason, wouldn't let her open doors for herself, dinner dates often. He is a romantic, compassionate, kind, loving, anything you could want in a husband. Mom was his queen. He looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world, all the way up to her last day on earth.
When Mom died, she took a part of Dad with her. A part I didn't think he would survive without. If it hadn't been for Harlan and I, I don't think he would've.
Mom's dying hurt me too but I didn't get a chance to grieve the way they did. Of course I missed her terribly but I couldn't let my brother and father drown. I did my best to keep the two above water for as long as I could. Harlan dropped nearly twenty pounds and almost got in trouble with the school for racking up the absences before I finally got him up and going again.
Dad never stopped. He was still going to work but we barely saw him for a month straight. He worked all the time as a distraction, though no matter how deep he went in work, it never healed the pain in his eyes. Eventually, he ended the cycle. He'd realized he was neglecting his job as "the only living parent" and did a complete turn around. He went from barely existing to a helicopter parent.
Dad thanks me all the time for keeping us afloat. I didn't think I needed thanking but I accepted his praise every time he offered it. He tells me all the time that I was my mom when she couldn't be here. He swears he only survived those couple of rough months in the beginning because of me.
Dad says he sees my mom in me but I don't. My mother was selfless. A beautifully empathetic, dedicated, loyal woman. She'd give up her last dollar if someone else needed it. She never let Harlan and I go without. She always knew exactly what either of us needed to hear in a time of teenage crisis. She lead us through life with grace and dignity and a smile that could melt the snow in Antartica.
I don't think I share a single resemblance to her.
No matter whether I did or didn't, Dad was a hoverer and wasn't ready to let me or Harlan leave the nest yet. Harlan graduates high school this year and I'm going off to college and Dad wasn't ready to accept that. The longer he could keep us close the better he felt. That's why I decided I didn't care him and Harlan came with me. Any extra help from parents once you're launched into adulthood is appreciated. Still living under his roof eliminated a lot of finical stress. And, as I stood outside our new two story English tudor with the grand cast iron fence all the way around it, it didn't seem to matter.
I would've been shoved into a shoebox apartment with dripping ceilings and creaky stairs. It would've been difficult to adjust by myself, I'm sure. But having dad and Harlan would make this transition easier. And this house, man. It was more than worth the tag alongs.
The sun touched down on the dewy grass at my feet, keeping it from freezing in the near thirty degree weather. The trees behind the house that sprawled as far as the eye could see were leafless but dotted throughout the sea of brown and dead were tall, green pine trees. Our new neighborhood was nestled against the wood line of acres and acres of forest.
Apparently, there was a hiking trail right near the house. It wasn't frequented as much in the winter time but it wasn't rare to not see a hiker or two no matter the time of year according to the realtor. She also told us we were pretty lucky to get the place and that it had at least fifteen other people interested. That aspect made it even greater to sit back and admire, "Blair," I heard my kid brother clear his throat over my shoulder, "Could you get lost?"
I saw him and Dad struggling to hold a couch above the ground. I noticed I was right in the middle of their path to the door and hastily hopped out of the way, "Oops!" I said as I bounced.
They quickly huffed their way up on to the porch and through the front door, setting the plastic wrapped couch just inside, "I'm glad you like the house, Penelope, but could you gawk at it from a different place in the yard?" Dad was taking deep breaths as he was bent over onto his knees.
I scowled at him for his use of my first name, "Or pull your weight and bring a box or two in." Harlan rolled his eyes, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, "Yeah, yeah." I blew a raspberry in their direction as I headed for the moving truck.
The back only had a few odds and ends left. The couch was the last of the bigger furniture. There were a few lamps and end tables left but it was a majority of boxes and bags.
I hopped up into the back and grabbed a box before I turned and jumped back down out of the trailer. I paused on my walk back to the porch for one last moment. A smile of warm approval absentmindedly spread across my face. This was our new home and all its quaint beauty.
This would be good. For all of us.
I hope.