JLooney.com

Y’know how we each have certain memories that are forever burned into our soul, and not in a good way? Maybe I’m alone in this, but I have several memories that haunt me. Not in a “wish I could go back in time and do it over” kind of way (although to a certain degree it’s almost universally true), and not in a beat-myself-up-over-and-over kind of way either. I wouldn’t even necessarily classify them as regrets, because I really don’t believe in regret – I’ve learned from each of these memories. But even though I’ve learned from them, I can recall each one so very vividly, and I experience the same depth of emotion as I did in the moment it actually happened. Here’s one example:

When I was 13 and my brother Brian was 10, we got skateboards for Christmas. Now, I had asked for a skateboard because one of my friends had a Powell-Peralta “Skull and Sword” which was wicked awesome. He was an only child and kind of spoiled, so naturally he had an expensive skateboard that was pretty damn nice. I wanted to skate home from school with him, so I asked for a skateboard for Christmas. I don’t know why Brian got one, too, but that’s not the point.

Our skateboards were identical and had a really cool black-and-white checkerboard pattern on the bottom that kinda flowed back into the word “DOMINATOR” written in red in a really tough-looking font, and they both had red wheels. Hey, there was a time when black-and-white checkerboard patterns were cool. It was 1984. Back off.

Anyway, Brian and I used to skate in our driveway all the time. Even though I was painfully uncoordinated, I tried to learn simple tricks, and could do a few things that looked pretty cool but weren’t that difficult and so impressed no one. Brian had some friends who knew a few tricks, too, and so he’d try to learn right along with me. I loved my skateboard because it meant I could skate home with my friend, and I imagine Brian loved his for the same reasons, but needless to say, we LOVED those skateboards.

On this particular day, Brian and I were skating and we got into a fight over something. I don’t even remember what it was that we fought over, but it’s not like the two of us fighting was an unusual occurrence. Mom and dad weren’t home, and so there was no one to come outside and break it up. We weren’t swinging fists or anything, but we were yelling at each other pretty good, and I was getting really pissed. His skateboard had somehow ended up near my feet, and in a fit of anger, I picked up a pick-ax that was sitting in the carport and raised it over my head like I was gonna smash his skateboard. He just looked at me and said “you won’t do that because then you’ll get in trouble!” Ahh, the wisdom of youth. If only that had been true.

And this is the moment that still hurts me enough to bring me to tears and make me want to vomit all at the same time.

I brought the pick-ax down hard, driving a hole through his skateboard deck and splitting it in two.

Brian’s face just fell, and I wished that I could take it back. He ran in the house, crying. I just stood there, sick to my stomach and feeling so terrible I just wanted to cry, too. I put the ax down, and picked up the two pieces of his skateboard to examine them. Maybe it could be fixed? I knew that this was not a possibility – the damage was way too severe. I wanted to hide what I’d done, it hurt too much to look at it, to know how I had intentionally hurt my brother with malice and anger. Was this the kind of person I was? The same kind of bully that pushed me around at school and hurt me? Did Brian look at me the same as I viewed them?

I don’t remember what the consequences that were handed down from my parents were, but I remember the face of my 10-year old brother looking at me in fear and pain as I destroyed something he loved in a fit of anger, and that look, that moment still haunts me.

It’s been 25 years since that day, and I’d like to think I’ve learned some lessons on how to treat people and how to conduct myself from that moment in time. But even if I’ve learned from it, it still follows me and hurts me from time to time. I know that the best I can do is to live my life in such a way that I don’t collect many of these haunting memories. I’m not perfect at it, by any means, but I work each day to ensure that I am not so careless with peoples feelings and lives.