Yet growing up, his parents were always kind and welcoming to me, and while I was never close to Terry’s brother and two sisters, they were never stuck-up or mean. When I stayed with them during the funeral and the following few days, they were just as I remembered, and I could tell they appreciated having another person there that loved Terry and could share the burden of losing him so suddenly.

Still, he was my only real connection to that family and their lives, and when I flew back home the following week, I had no expectation I would ever have much contact with any of them again. That’s why I was surprised when a few days later I got a call from Hannah. She told me Terry had bought me a gift before he died, a very unique kind of service that they had both used before and really loved. He had wanted it to be a surprise for the next time we were together, but now that wasn’t possible, so she wanted to let me know.

I was strangely touched by both the gift and her thinking to call and tell me about it. It sounded just like something Terry would do. Wiping my eyes, I asked her what kind of “service” it was. She gave a short laugh and said it would be better for it to be a surprise. The people should be contacting me in the next few days to set up an appointment, and everything would be explained then.

With that, she said her goodbyes and was gone.

****

The following Friday, I was sitting in my living room across from a distinguished-looking man in a well-tailored suit, his vaguely European accent adding a pleasantly cultured lilt to his words as he told me about his company, Mneumonica. He said his name was Dimitri Aller, and he had a very special gift for me.

“Andrew, if I offered you the chance to take a wonderful trip to anywhere in the world, a true adventure full of beauty and excitement, wouldn’t you want to go?”

I gave a slight smile. “Well sure, yeah.” Was that the gift? A trip to wherever I wanted?

The man returned my smile briefly as he nodded. “Of course you would. But now, what if I told you that after you took that trip, you would have no memory of it at all? You would have no trace of it having happened in your life whatsoever?”

I frowned. What was this? “Um…I don’t know. I don’t think I would, no.”

The man’s expression turned to a contemplative frown. “And why’s that?”

Shrugging, I paused a moment as I tried to find the right words. “I just…I don’t know what the point would be. I would just be losing time from my life and having nothing to show for it when it was done.”