That
afternoon, Ada woke up from her short nap determined to buy what she
had been waiting for all this time. There were just 15 minutes until
lady Fatimah leaves for her 5 o'clock tea, so she got dressed as fast
as she could, grabbed the coffee she always needs after sleeping and
left in a hurry.
Across
from her house, there was a small but very well-supplied shop called
“A little bit of everything”, whose owner, a chubby lady
originally from Syria but married to an English journalist, was
exceptionally gifted at healing any disease, either mental or
physical, by just mixing the appropriate herbs and ingredients.
When
Ada got to the store, Fatimah had already left, and instead of her,
her eldest daughter, who was the only person she would leave in
charge in her absence, was there. Ada would have never let other
person different than lady Fatimah to assist her, but the girl asked
kindly:
-Welcome,
how can I help you, Miss?
-Hi.
Well...er...I ordered this medicine to Fatimah some weeks ago- she
said, showing her client card- I wonder if...
Before
she could finish her sentence, the girl had already left to the stock
room. When she came back, she was carrying a little green crystal
jar, with a note on it:
-The
oblivion potion- she read slowly, - yes, it is ready- Here you have.
Ada
took the little jar with a mixture of happiness and surprise, left
twenty pounds in coins on 50 pence- it was her tips savings for
almost 2 months, and run to her apartment impatiently. Once in home,
she removed the label from the bottle and read carefully: “To reach
the forgotten state, take one teaspoon everyday, preferably with
meals, during 2 weeks. Do not take during more than one month. In
case of discomfort, consult Fatimah”.
Gradually,
she fell in a forgetfulness state which made her delete all the bad
experiences, her last breakup, her parents' divorce. Little by
little, she became happier, hopeful, optimistic, any bad memory
affecting her now. However, all that glitters is not gold, and short
after, she also started to forget the good memories, the summers from
her childhood, the chit-chats with her sister. One morning, when she
looked in the mirror, she had to check her face twice to recognise
who she was. Her cat was starving because she forgot to feed him.
Everything around seemed strange to her.
Eventually,
I could not think of an end to Ada's story. Sometimes, many of us
would prefer to delete like her all the bad memories, clean our minds
from the negative past, or start from zero. Other times, we lean on
sayings such as what does not kill you makes you stronger just to
make a sense of the negative experiences. To me, the idea that our
past influences our present, and will influence our future is one of
the lemas of my life. To have the faith, the belief, that our stories
matter, that across all the experiences we have lived, either good or
bad, something has remained, something has been learnt.
“You
have to begin to lose your memory, if only in bits and pieces, to
realize that memory is what makes our lives. (...) Our memory is our
coherence, our reason, our feeling, even our action. Without it we
are nothing.”
(Luis
Buñuel, Spanish filmmaker).