Remembering Us

Miracle

I shouldn't be alive. I should be dead. Blakely Adams should be dead.

I close my eyes and sit back in my seat as my thoughts consume me. The mini van speeds down the gravel road making a cloud of dust in its path.
"Blake we are almost home." My father says from the drivers seat. I look over at my mother who nods her head in agreement. I have mixed feelings about this moment and every single moment that has happened since I woke up. They were my parents, they raised me, they love me. Except, there's a catch.

I didn't know them. At least when I woke up to see their faces I didn't know who they were. Mom was crying and dad just seemed to be in shock as he held her. It took me a good five minutes to realize I was in a hospital bed with one of those hospital gowns on that ties in the back so your backside shows. Even when the doctors came in and said "Mr and Mrs Adams, a miracle has happened to you today," I still did not understand that these two people were my parents.

The car ride to my house was awkward. Maybe awkward wasn't a good enough word. I felt horrible. What kind of sick, horrible child doesn't remember their own parents? But the truth was I didn't remember anything, not even my name at first. That was the first thing that came back to me.

We pulled into a long driveway of a creamish house with a big porch. Snow piles were pushed all along side the driveway and my head pounded as I tried to remember something but gave up when nothing came to mind. It was dark enough and the Christmas lights twinkled all along the edges of the roof and a light up reindeer stood by an evergreen tree in the front.

My parents pulled into the two car garage and proceeded to get out of the car. I followed slowly, stretching my legs and yawning. I followed my mom up the stairs and into the house. It was warm and pleasant and felt familiar. Well duh it looks familiar, you grew up here stupid.

"Do you remember where your room is hun?" My mom says hanging up her coat. I pause and think for a moment, cmon, you have to remember something so simple.
Frustrated, I shook my head.
"I'll show you." she whispers and took off walking down the hall away from the shoe and coat closet and past a laundry room and bathroom. We walk into a living room, I assume, and I see a beautiful Christmas tree with glistening lights and ornaments that look like they were cheesily made by young kids.

"What is the date today?" I ask. First words I've actually spoken aloud since I've woken up.
"January 5th." She says casually. I look at her puzzled but she answers my question before it even leaves my mouth. "We usually are a little late on taking our tree down." I can't help but smile a little at the thought. She starts walking again and I follow as she leads me down some stairs into a chilly basement. It was the first door on the right that she opened leading me into a grey room with a full size bed in the corner with navy sheets and a big white desk on the opposite side of the room. My room, I remember this. We redecorated it last fall.

"It's getting late and I understand if you are tired." My mother says, snapping me out of my thoughts. I've walked a little ways into my room and realizing I had tears in my eyes. When I turn around my mom and dad are there to envelop me into a hug.

"I remember this room." I whisper into my dads chest as I hug them tighter, trying to make up for all the time lost.

***

Later that night when I decide to go to sleep my dad walks into my room and stands by my nightstand. I pull the blankets over me and stare up at him.
"Goodnight," I say to him yawning and hugging the blankets closer to me.
"Blakes I'm so happy your home." He pauses for a second before continuing, "Promise me tonight when you fall asleep you will wake up in the morning. I'm still trying to convince myself that you are really home." He kneels by my bedside and don't fully understand why this is so emotional for him, nor do I understand how long I was even gone for but I promise him.

As he shuts the door I can hear him and mom talking on the other side, "She's a miracle." My mom whispers.
"She's our miracle." My dad responds. I fall asleep with the idea of a Christmas at this house complete with Christmas cookies, and hot chocolate.