Share

Sunday, 26 February 2012

Narrative

One of the joys of being able to remember every day of the past two months since I began this process of remembering is narratives emerge and are much easier to follow.

I now have enough material pegged down to specific dates.

It was thinking of my friends having a daughter that crystalised this for me this week.

Laura was born on 10 February. I remember receiving the call at about 5 pm in the living room of our flat and handing the phone to my wife so she could also give her congratulations to the parents.

All the times we met them up with them over the past three months come to mind.

They are in my first ever memory tag in this process of remembering on 17 December, going out to lunch with Sandra heavily pregnant.

After Christmas we met on 8 January at their place for lunch. We ate salmon and shared fish-related stories over the dining table.

We met at the café in the library for lunch on 20 January, and shared visa stories: Sandra's aunt was applying for a visa to visit.

We had them round for dinner in our new flat on 25 January - a Wednesday. I can picture them on the sofa as we talk about the imminent arrival and how they have prepared their home.

On 5 February, I travelled with David to the airport to meet her aunt's flight.

We intended to call round on Tuesday 7 February, but Sandra was kept in the hospital after visiting for her check up. My memory tag is sitting with my wife in the car deciding where to go instead.

Their daughter Laura was born on 10 February. I hope to remember her birthday forever.

My memory tag for 11 February is sitting with my wife in a favourite café writing messages in the huge card we had bought them.

We have still to visit as we have colds and don't want to take germs to their house.

Beyond the three months, there are also memories, of course. Hearing about the pregnancy. Meeting Sandra for the first time. Being unable to travel to their wedding. Hearing about her from David for the first time. Some of these memories are foggy. Some are clear, but of unknown date.

I prefer the new way of remembering the story of our lives.

No comments:

Post a Comment