He was probably the best friend I ever had. We went through everything together. He was there for me every time I needed him, through my parents divorce, and through almost every difficult time in my life since I was 13 years old. He was known as my Knicks hat. The New York Knick hat I got for Christmas when I was in 7th grade. That was the last Christmas I ever spent with my Dad, the last Christmas we ever spent as a family. For that Christmas break he informed my mom and I he was leaving for good. At the time, it saddened and disappointed me. Now however, almost six years later I am all the stronger. I have a deep appreciation for family and friends perhaps more than other kids that have not been through a divorce.
I lost him once. My Mom and I took a ride in her car with the top down. We were cruising down the highway when the joy ride took a turn for the worst. My hat flew off my head and out onto the highway of speeding cars and monstrous trucks. Mom thought it was gone for good, but I would not let that happen. I began my frantic search on the side of the highway and I could not believe my luck. There, safely on the shoulder of the road was my trusty old Knicks hat! We were reunited.
My Mom hated that old smelly hat, but she understood its significance, just like she understands me. None of my friends understood its value. Certainly it was not the most beautiful hat, but it meant so much to me. My Mom was the only person who recognized its true meaning. She understood the security I felt with that hat. It was molded so perfectly to my head. How rare it is to get a perfectly fitted hat. The meaning of that bond to keep the past alive and also share the experiences that molded me into who I am today was simply signified in my Knicks hat. Faded and torn, pieces held together with duct tape, and stained from the sweat of my forehead it was the most beautiful thing I owned.
“Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year.” Christmas songs like this one and many, many more were stuck in my head for the upcoming holidays. I was December 19, 2001, and these songs from television shows to radios and even from Christmas shopping music at stores were played over and over again until I was humming them myself. With Christmas break coming right around the ...
Finally, one day, the inevitable happened. After a long, rough game of backyard football, I jogged home, thinking of my mom’s dinner and ready to go to bed. After I finished my dinner, I lay in bed and my mind began to wonder. Then, it came to me; I was missing my Knicks hat. Jumping out of bed, I woke my mom frantically looking for my prize possession. I looked in every logical place, except the field. So, with a flashlight in one hand, I searched the field. The hat was gone. My best friend had walked out on me. I was dumbfounded. I had never felt this way about anything. It was like I had lost a leg. When I finally got home, I had to tell my mom the news. It was probably one of the worst days of my life.
If anything can describe the kind of person I am, it is my Knicks hat. It may have been a little rundown, but it meant a lot to me. When I lost my hat, I thought I had lost a piece of myself, lost something that defined who I am, but now I realize that it was in me all along. He’s gone now, my Knicks hat is gone, but he has a place in my heart forever.