One Sunny morning at the garage, my older brother was driving his car in reverse and I was getting something on top of the trunk, then the vehicle, literally, ran over my feet. I hollered his name, and, told him to move forward again because I was ran over by the wheel. He felt so sorry that it happened. From then on throughout his lifetime, whenever he would remember, he would always say, "I’m sorry about the accident". I would just laugh it off. Then, I would say that happened years ago and don’t say sorry anymore because now my feet don’t hurt at all. Even then, if it pops up in his memory he would say sorry again. Then again, I would say forget about it. And, I would laugh about it. Now, I am looking at it from his perspective. Maybe, he felt so terrible that he ran over his own brother. And, now I am thinking what if I was the one driving the car and I ran over my own brother? Then, I understand now, why?
Because he loves his brother.
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