The Unforgettable Night
Left with a memorable gift
It was a Friday night on October 23, 1981, and I had planned to sleep over at my friend’s house. However, for some unknown reason, I didn’t feel like going. Instead, I had a strong desire to stay home. After dinner, my family gathered in the parlor — Dad in his gold faux leather recliner, Mom and I on the dark brown sofa, and my brother on his stomach in front of the woodstove, one hand patting our cat, Kitty.
That night, my brother stayed longer than usual. It was an unforgettable evening filled with a sense of closeness. He entertained us with a unique hand trick, coaxing us all to give it a try. He made small circles toward him with his left hand while his right hand made circles in the opposite direction, away from him. He effortlessly performed the trick, laughing as we attempted to replicate it. As the younger sibling, I always admired and wanted to emulate him, even though he didn’t always welcome my presence. However, this night was different; we shared a special bond. At one point, he stood behind me, guiding my arms and showing me how to do it. He would let go, and I would immediately continue the motion, pedaling both arms in unison away from me. We all tried and failed, but laughter filled the room. I wanted to keep practicing, but everyone had their fill. He bid us a quick goodbye, and I couldn’t help but think about our wonderful time.
Around 1 a.m., I woke drenched in sweat to the phone ringing and rain pouring relentlessly on the roof. I answered the call in my room. It was the hospital, asking for my parents. My mom picked up the other phone downstairs, signaling me to hang up. I sat in silence, hearing my parents scurrying around.
In the car’s back seat, directly behind my dad, I noticed his tight grip on the steering wheel, the windshield wipers swishing back and forth. My mom’s hands were clasped together, nervously fidgeting with her rings. As we approached flashing police lights in the distance, the rain-soaked leaves on the road reflected the red, orange, and yellow hues through the thick fog. My dad slowed down as we all glanced at the blue Camaro wrapped around a telephone pole.
Sitting alone in the back seat, I looked down at my hands, and there it was, I was doing the trick I couldn’t do just hours ago. My left hand circled toward me, while my right hand circled away. Tears welled up in my eyes. At that moment, I knew deep in my heart that I would never see my brother again.
