Musings and Memoirs Pt. 1

When I first look at you, I would be astonished. I would think you’re too suave, too confident and too handsome to be as unbelievable as you seem to be even though you’re standing right in front of me. People of all kinds- men, women, teenagers, children, geriatrics and even the schizophrenic-catatonics will gasp upon your sheer elegance. But me, no, I will be as nonchalant as I am now. Your guise will not affect even a nerve in my body. There is only one reason for this kind of reaction—I do not believe you to be real, even though you’re speaking and your words are directed towards me. You ask for my name, I tell you to buzz off. But you insist, you struggle and you even offer to buy me an apple martini. I oblige, of course. Who am I to turn down such a knock-out like you are? You don’t know that at that very moment I was staring at your green eyes and I notice small pecks of gray in your irises, there are freckles in your nose and your lashes are rather long and thick. There is a certain brightness that lights up your eyes when you smile, like headlights on a convertible. Then you offer the martini to me, I take it from your hand and had a sip.

That moment was just a taste of what was ahead for the both of us. I still continued to be the stubborn girl who didn’t believe in men like you and you continued to pursue me. Pursue me? You? As I’m writing this, I could not even believe what you were doing before now. For months you tried persuading me to go out with you but I just couldn’t muster the confidence to go on a date with you. I was a single, lonely, rain-soaked puppy in New York City, the unknown girl from Queens, the girl you would pass by in the street without the slightest notice. You were a different story. You were the man-about-town, the seemingly perfect man in Armani suits and shiny, clean loafers. For God’s sake, you live in the Upper East Side! But we had the same passion, the one thing that kept us bumping into each other-- Art. Even when I was still in my scrubs, fresh from the graveyard shift in the hospital, I went straight to the Guggenheim rather than going home for some shut eye. I was thrilled to be early when there were only a few people. Plus, it was a Saturday and I had two days off after last night. I saw you instantly when I reached the third level via the spiral ramp. You were in a suit with a dark red tie and black loafers. You had coffee in your right hand, and judging from my keen sense of smell I knew you were having coffee with milk and cinnamon. But there was one thing that was out-of-place in your over-all attire, which were your white earphones connected to your Ipod. I smiled at that thought; you really did look kind of funny. And then without noticing, we were both fixated on a piece by Picasso, the title I could not seem to remember. You see, my memory’s worse as yours. You looked at me, I looked at you. Then you removed your earphones from your ears and said ‘Hi’. I said ‘hello’ back. I was smiling so wide I was conscious that I looked a little crazy to you. Then you suddenly mumbled your name, I nodded in response. Then you started to ask what my name was. I don’t know what got into me, but at that moment I was not able to move a single muscle, my head was too busy memorizing your face for it may be the most beautiful face I have ever seen in the city. Before I could even open my big, fat mouth, my phone alarm went ballistic: it was already ten in the morning and I had to go back to Queens fast.

How did we even get married? It feels like a long time ago. After the entire incidental ‘bumping-on-each-other’ and the renegade-style dates we decided to have a truce—we had to officially date! And it was in those years of dating together that I realized you were not as prim and proper as I expected you to be. You have Spongebob boxer shorts and apparently you love them to bits. You have a soft spot for “The Carpenters” and “Abba”. You make my ears pop when you sing in the bathroom like a madman. You don’t know how to use a washing machine. When I asked you what was the latest book you’ve read and when did you last read it, you said with all confidence, “For whom the bell tolls by Ernest Hemingway when I was in high school”. The more I discover random things about your life, the more I understand why you want to experience a life with someone as normal as me. You were basically bathed in luxury, spoiled by your incandescent mother and father who were so good to you that until now they still can’t let you go. You had formal summer camps, holidays in Martha’s Vineyard, Southampton and Nantucket and every training in the world that contributes to someone with breeding. You were linked to women in the same circle as you were in. That must have been quite boring, huh? It’s like having the same dinner every single boring day. Every day when we were together, I understood that my life was indefinitely changing. There were social events where I had to be there with you side by side and there were summers in posh locations in the country when we had to put up appearances for other people. It was new to me and I had to come into terms of getting used to it. And at the same time you had to endure my not being there at all times due to my demanding schedule at the hospital. We had quarrels and even big fights but we remained together through it all. After four years of being together, I realized you were the only man for me; you were the only one who could catch my eye even when you were in the middle of a crowd or even a mosh pit. I realized you were the only one who understood me, who told me I was beautiful even when I just woke up with my haystack hair and a significant trail of a drool in the side of my face. You were the only one who saw wonderful things in me, things that I was not even aware of possessing, things that I have took for granted. You are the only man who vindicates me on being strong. You were the only man I would live for even if it would take heaven and earth to pull its strings for me. You were the only man whom I would fight for with my last breath. You make my heart flutter and go off into irregular beats. You make me happy even if it’s just a silly note in my e-mail. You make days of being apart from you seem like years. You continue to surprise me every day. I realized that I love you in the most absolute way that nothing can hinder me from feeling it.

Do you remember how you proposed to me? You looked so nervous and pale that I even thought you had a slight touch of hypotension and I even insisted on examining you. But you were shaking your head vigorously. We were at central park, walking around the pond and talking about where to spend our three-week sabbatical. And then suddenly, out of the blue, you were down on your left knee and presenting me a beautifully set diamond ring in a red velvet box. I just went blank. I was listening to you, everything that you were saying but my mind was wandering elsewhere. Part of me wanted to burst out of tears, another part of me just wanted to squeal out of happiness. But I have done neither; instead I cried and said ‘Yes’. We were married just nine months later in the Guggenheim by special request. The next year of being married to each other was such bliss. We were inseparable like Siamese twins and we couldn’t get our hands off each other. I even remember one evening when we were in Nantucket; you played for me “The Swan” by Saint-Saens in the piano and told me that piece was just like me. I was your swan, your muse; that I was your only inspiration and the one thing that’s most important to you from that moment on. I couldn’t imagine anything else that’s remotely beautiful as your words. Do you still know me? Do you still remember me? Those memories of you are the only things that I truly treasure. Five years in this marriage and we’re still rocking the house like how we did back when we were still dating. But even though five years just went flying by, those five years were undeniably the best years of my life filled with the best memories and the best man in the world. Do you see this ring on my finger? Do you still remember our promise to each other? We promised that we would love each other despite every obstacle that may leave us stumbling, but at least we’re stumbling together. We promised that we would hold each other’s hands until we die. Before that big eraser in your head succeeds in its task in removing every bit of memory left of you and me, I just want to tell you I loved you then and I still love now. I will remember us for you. I want to reassure you that even though everything about you is different, you will still be the same man who captivated my soul with those grey-specked green eyes. You will always be the same man who made my heart beat like raindrops against concrete. When that time comes when you forget how to breathe, I ask you this: let your first and last breath in your life be in memory of us.

Ever thine, ever mine, ever ours.

                                                                                       The Alzheimer's Wife