Writer's Notebook

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"Hi Mum! Where on earth are you? I've tried to reach you at the office, your appartment, and on your cellphone. What are you doing? Ian has had a terrible accident. He was out jogging. You know how he loves to go jogging when he has to work late. He was in the park, the one he goes to every night. But tonight there was a drugs bust there that turned nasty. Someone fired at one of the cops, who retaliated in kind, and in the ensuing crossfire Ian got in the head. Mum, he's real mess. Mum please come, please! I need you, I really do. Katie's promised to take me to the hospital, but she can't stay long, as Ron's out of town. Mum, come as soon as you get this message, please!"




(6 months later)

Hi Mum,

Well, today I got the news I've been waiting for for the last two months. Ian can come home. The specialist told us this afternoon. Everyone I've seen is delighted. "What wonderful news," they keep saying. But they don't know him. They can see him lying there, straining to remember the smallest detail of our life together. They don't see the effort it takes to get him out of bed and walk him down the passage. Mum, I loved this man. And when I see him like that, there's still something in me that says, I want to give him my love. Yet, the fact is any love had gone out of our marriage long before the accident. Married singles, that's what you would have called us. And now I'm going to have to devote the next 6-12 months of my life to a man I no longer know and who can't remember anything about our life together. Oh yes, the doctor was very blunt about that.

"Mrs. Storman, you must realise that although your husband is slowly regaining the use of his body, his mind is still very much a blank. You're going to have to help him, Mrs. Storman; and it's going to take a lot of time and energy."

Mother, how on earth am I going to cope! It's all too much. And on top of that, Ian's not going to be able to work for another year, at least. His firm has been great. They've kept Ian on and kept up the insurance payments at the same time. But they're not going to wait another 12 months for a crippled executive to return to the post, not even knowing if he's going to be able to do so. And then what? The house, the cars, all our luxury, even the maid... are we going to have to forsake all this? And the computer! Mother, I won't even be able to write you these mails any more. No, I can't, I just can't!

What's more, when Ian gets back, I'll be all alone. Ron's been a great help over these past months. He's round most days now and whenever Katie's out of town he spends the evenings with me. Until now, I've not let him stay the night, but I do so long for him when I wake up alone. But with Ian back at home, even that consolation will be denied me. I'm all alone alone; all alone with Ian.

(Another 6 months later)

Hi Mum,

Sorry I haven't written for so long. I bet you think, we've had to sell the computer. Well, we've not had to, not yet. But we probably are going to have to do without quite a lot, now that Ian has resigned from the company.

Now, I know you thought things were going well for Ian at work. And they were. Getting back to work was the one thing that really helped Ian make remarkable progress. Oh, at first, things were difficult, but everyone was remarkably patient and explained things a hundred times. Jenny took the greatest burden. Never was a secretary so loving and patient. And slowly, Ian's memory started to come back. And what he discovered, shocked him. The firm's principles of justice and equity for all, are nothing more than a facade. They're out to screw whoever they can and make sure there's a big stake in it for themselves at the end of the day. Ian was disgusted, until he realised that he was one of the worst culprits. Jenny had suspected Ian was different, so she had been hiding a large part of his dossiers. But Ian found them today. He flew into a rage when he discovered what had been going on - what he had been doing. And when Jenny tried to console him, as apparantly she so often did in the past, Ian was horrified. He fled out of the office. I found him at home when I returned from a shopping trip in town... did I ever tell you that we had to get rid of the maid? He was kneeling beside his bed, tears steaming down his face. He'd remembered everything: the shady deals, the clients he'd ripped off, the secret accounts he had stashed away, and his relationship with Jenny. He remembered everything. And he told me everything. And I stood there not believing this was happening. It all seemed so surreal. This wasn't Ian talking to me. This was a different man. Or was it Ian, after all, and the Ian I'd known for years was someone else. And it wasn't just seeing him there like this, hearing all he had to confess. Ever since he'd got home, he was different. He took such an interest in me, and wanted to help in whatever way he could. He wouldn't let me mother him and insisted he do as much as possible in the home. He needed the exercise, so he said. But he took every opportunity he found to mother me as much as possible. And I hadn't realised it until today, but I really do love this man. That's why I think this is Ian, the real Ian.

Yesterday, we spent the whole day talking things through, and Ian wrote his resignation letter last night. This morning we also contact the agents to get the house sold. We'll never be able to afford it now. We don't know what we're going to do yet, but a man with Ian's abilities will easily be able to make himself useful. We still have quite a bit saved up from when Ian was working, but the hidden accounts we'll make over to the firm; a repayment for their standing by Ian during his illness, if you like.

Mother, I don't know what the future holds for us, but I do know where I want to be and with whom I want to be with. And that's what counts the most.