Russell was an only child, and his parents made it clear from the beginning that they considered our life temporary until we eventually folded ourselves into theirs.
His mother, Brenda, liked to call herself direct while his father, Don, liked to call himself traditional, but the truth was that they were simply selfish people.
For many years, life moved in a straight line as the children grew and we talked sometimes about buying our own place.
Russell always said there was no point when his parents had a perfectly good house and expected us to live with them eventually anyway.
I did not love that idea, but I did not fight hard enough either because at the time I thought compromise was the same thing as peace.
I know better now after everything that has happened to me.
My parents lived forty minutes away in the split level house where my brother and I grew up, which featured cedar siding that had faded to silver over many years.
It was a modest home with a dogwood near the driveway and a line of lilacs along the back fence that smelled like heaven in the spring.