Who Am I When All The Memories Are Gone

Who am I once my memories have disappeared, dissolved or merely faded away. Am I still Brian. The Brian that loves motorcycles, WW 2 aircraft and M’Lady. Or am I a new creation? Or possibly just an empty shell? 

The Life And Times Of Brian Waddington


Who am I once my memories have disappeared, dissolved or merely faded away. Am I still Brian. The Brian that loves motorcycles, WW 2 aircraft and M’Lady. Or am I a new creation? Or possibly just an empty shell?       The Life And Times Of Brian Waddington
The Great Unknown

About two years ago during a torrential downpour there was a possibility that our fence would wash away. Downpour or not it was time to do some drainage work. After an hour or so it was complete and both M’Lady and I were ‘Basa Olan’ which in translation means drenched to the skin. 

As we were walking back to the house M’Lady suggested in a joking way that I might as well strip down and she would hang my clothes up to dry. Made sense to me so I did. She was somewhat surprised that I took her seriously but hey, our yard has a great privacy fence and no random passerby was going to get the scare of their life seeing me naked.

I’m bringing this up because M’Lady tells me that yesterday after my shower I wandered onto our patio buck naked. Certainly wandering around buck naked is nothing new. But not remembering that I did it? This is new. New and a shaker of my self confidence. 

Imagine, if you can, not being sure of what you said or did yesterday. When I was in my early twenties I worked as a flight instructor. My one claim to fame was that I was a very pleasant drunk. Sometimes a bit messy but always pleasant. Imagine my surprise when I went into work and got the cold, dare I say icy shoulder from one of my co-workers. Eventually I asked her what I had done wrong? She asked me why I'd been such a jerk the night before.

This puzzled me. I had been at home the night before. All night! 

Turned out that there was a fellow living in the area with my name, my great looks and a pilots license He was the one who had been a jerk. This was not the last time I was to be confused with other John Brian Waddingtons. But those are stories for another time. For now lets time shift give or take five decades...

Give or take a month ago M’Lady and I were sitting at the kitchen table remembering old times. It wasn’t long before our memories parted ways. This is to be expected. People remember things differently. 

Then she started recounting memories that I had absolutely no recollection of. She was talking about events that happened to someone else. Only it wasn’t someone else. It was me. It was us. But to me it wasn’t my life.

Not remembering things from fifty years ago, I can live with. Not remembering what happened yesterday. Not so easy to live with. How can I apologize for what I can't remember doing? How do I make plans? How do I love M'Lady if I can't remember all she has done for me, with me, by me?

I'm scared.

Brian

Comments

Sarah Glenn said…
Thank you for sharing this journey with us.
I must admit that it is not done through altruism. I find it cathartic to explore my reality.