Memories Once Removed

The treatment was explained to the patient, and the potential side effects were described. The patient inquired about the probability of the side effects and he was told it was very high, bordering on certainty. The poor prognosis without the treatment was also described. The patient requested that a statement be entered into his medical records. That statement follows.

And I remember the Sunday morning, the sunlight pouring through the cabin window, still cold as the logs in the fireplace had just begun to burn, and you came out of shadow and into the light, your blond hair glowing, framing your face, you reached over and kissed me lightly on my cheek, pulling away, the smile came so easily and stayed, and the pancakes on the cast iron griddle, with the blueberries gathered along the path to the beach, and my heart opened to the possibility that we might spend the rest of our lives together.

And I remember the days in our apartment, our first home, with the odds and ends from our previous lives, somehow blended together, your stereo with my speakers, and the nights you studied at the kitchen table, with your green and red and blue and yellow markers, transforming your school books into a cacophony of color, your secret code, and the arguments over the cheesecake, mine from New York, yours from your mother, and finding the recipes were the same, but still arguing, which was better.

And I remember the drive cross-country, the car cut through the wide open landscape, fields of wheat from horizon to horizon, bent with the wind and pushing against us, the sun setting behind us as we drove in silence, into the storm of our lives, the lightning crackled, the thunder smashed the air around us, air filled with tension, and you reached across the seat and rubbed my shoulder, you said, come back, and we flew through the night, beyond the lightning and the storm, and the tension eased, flowed out of the car and into the thunder.

And I remember the beach, where we took turns with our son and the surf, as he played in the sand beneath the umbrella, while the rhythm of the surf pushed us forward in time, and the sun and the heat made time stand still, with the iced tea in the cooler and the sandwiches and chips and brownies in the bag, I closed my eyes for just a moment, until the pat pat pat of the baby’s hand broke my reverie, seeing you floating in the water, moving up and down with the surf, not yet surrendering to the sun and the heat.

And I remember the trek through the snow, scrambling up the trail on the mountain’s shoulder, the water and mud where the trail was bare, gathering on our shoes, the mountain looming larger as the three of us trudged on, just a little higher, you said, and our son stopping and wanting to stop again, and then we finally did stop, the boys tired and cranky, the plastic garbage bags suddenly emerged from your backpack, and you showed us how, we glissaded down the slope, an avalanche of grins and whoops, the mud washed from our shoes, and our son wondered, what else you had in that backpack.

And I remember the phone call, the cold plastic receiver in my hand, the house was silent, the low winter light came through the window, the mountains in the distance holding the setting sun, and I heard the words, and my heart stopped beating for a moment, my memories stopped at that moment, now they were all I would ever have of you, and the sun set and the house was silent, I put the phone down, and I held our son, I told our son, I held him tight, and we remembered and I remembered and I remembered.

And I will always remember, for where is it written in stone that memories are only in our mind, the heart is stronger, it keeps love close and remembers with its every beat, it remembers the kiss and the colors and the lightning and the surf and the snow, it remembers the silence, and as long as my heart beats, I will remember, for memories once removed lie just below the surface, they will grow again, and I will remember your face and the recipe and the wheatfields and the sand and the backpack, I will remember that moment, I will remember again, that I love you, I will remember.

The patient accepted the treatment. The prognosis is good, although additional applications may be necessary to sustain the patient’s status. The expected side effects did manifest themselves, but the severe memory loss has not affected his cognitive levels. The patient is undergoing therapy to reacquaint himself with his history.