When I was a young boy my parents took my brother and I on a trip to Sydney. We went to the Zoo, and the Powerhouse Museum (absolutely fantastic for a young kid into technology and science like I was and am), and many many other places. Most importantly, we were spending time as a family. I look back on the trip with the absolute fondness of memories. And with a little regret.
Not about the trip, no, let me explain. We were heading back to the hotel after a long days adventuring. My brother and I could be a little bit (ok, a lotta bit) of a handful when we were young, and this particular day was no different; So you can understand why when the train arrived at the station, I just stepped on. Or rather, into the gap between the platform and the train.
I don’t remember much about it; what I do remember is falling, and in the same instant a fist grabbing my t-shirt from behind and pushing me up onto the train. My ankle and knee was sore and my eyes were filling with tears as Mum snatched me up and took me to seat. Dad was shaking the hand of the man who had saved, at the very least, my leg.
I remember laying on the hotel bed watching cartoons as Dad iced my leg.
My regret is never being able to thank that man for saving my life; or at the very least, saving my leg.