“Set A and C, and these two snacks, please.” He ordered the take away from the fast-food restaurant, on this Sunday afternoon. He planned to enjoy it with his mother.
It has been three-weeks since he sent his mum back to their family house in their hometown. That day, she was being discharged from the hospital. Now, everything has slowly headed back to normal pace as before; and he had to go back to office attending to his works that have been piling up during his emergency leaves. For the past few weeks, phone calls and video calls were the contact methods he used to keep an eye and stay connected with his mum.
“Hysterical amnesia is of two main types. One involves the failure to recall particular past events or those falling within a particular period of the patient’s life. This is essentially retrograde amnesia but it does not appear to depend upon an actual brain disorder, past or present. In the second type there is failure to register – and, accordingly, later to recollect – current events in the patient’s ongoing life.”
“Huff…” Joe let out a heavy sigh, after reading the definition of that medical terms. For the very first time, Joe searched such medical terms, i. e. ‘hysterical amnesia’ from the internet.
(Doctor said mum has hysterical amnesia after reviewing on mum’s CT scan reports.)
Starred at the ceiling, Joe recalled the conversations he had with doctor. (Strange… there were not any impactful event that might cause her having this mental issue. Could it be that she’s still being emotionally affected by the loss of dad? But that was two years ago.) “In short, this mental issue would lead mum to unconsciously forget about certain part of their past memories, be it object such as people she knew or events she had experienced.” He tried to envisage what she might forget, in order to get himself some level of mentally prepared. He needed to stay compose as his mum was the only one left in his family.
Joe was the only child.
Forty-minute driving, he reached the house that he has spent his eighteen years, with both his parents. With the house key, he opened the wooden door. The beautiful flowers planted in the pots were still at the same old spot. “Ma! I’m home!” He shouted right after opening the door, called for his mum.
He walked towards the living room. A woman dress in pale yellow dress was sitting on her favorite armed chair, near the window.
“Ma…” he called. The woman looked his way. After few seconds, she then put a smile on her face. “Oh, Mike! What brings you here?” She said, in rather flattered tone.
Joe was stunt by her reply. He stood there, in the living room and didn’t move an inch. (What she just called me? Mike? Uncle Mike, her brother? Did she mistake me for Uncle Mike?)
“Come over here. Why standing there? Come, Mike. Here, sit next to me. Let me have a good look at you.” She chuckled at her brother’s stone-like reaction. Joe followed her instruction, and walked towards her. His mind was in chaotic mess; he couldn’t believe what he just heard and witnessed just now. “Ma…” Looked into her eyes, he called her softly.
“Oh, you brought KFC? That’s very kind of you. I love it! Joe always gets me this set meal. He knew exactly which set I enjoy the most.” The curve of her smile was getting wider and wider. Can’t hide her happiness. “I miss Joe. My boy. I’m so proud of him.” Continued sharing and bragging to her brother about her son that makes her feels so proud each day.
Joe, sat next to her mum, was speechless. Shocking, saddening, gladness overwhelmed him, at this very moment. The shock of his mum who no longer recognizes him and the saddened impact from her ‘forgetful’ mental issue, really hit him hard, so hard. It was beyond his mental-preparation that he thought that he had prepared beforehand.
His mum reached to the set meal and started putting them on the side table and enjoying them.. From time to time, she was still blabbing on how good his son was.
Held onto his mum’s hand, he said to her “Ma…” For a voice from an adult man, his voice was rather chocking now. “Ma, I’m here. It’s me, Joe. Your son, Joe. Do you remember me?” With teary eyes, he continued calling.
“What’s wrong, Mike? Why the frowning face? You did something naughty and made dad angry again?” “Come on, Mike, you’re sixteen now, be a grown-up now. I can’t keep cover for you. Ha-ha…” She looked at Joe and said. She laughed. Withdrew her hands from Joe’s grip and continued eating the snacks and KFC.
“Wouldn’t you look at me? Ma? I’m here. I’m Joe. Call me by my name, please… Ma…” His mum, was not responding to his whisper; she was still looking into the space in front of her, kind of lost focus into her own world, yet smiling, reminiscing the happy moments she had with his son. She’s not hearing a thing his son was saying to her, in reality.
“Of all people, how could you forget about me? … Ma…” Gripped tightly to the armrest of her chair, Joe tried to control his emotion but fail. He lowered his head, looked to the floor. ‘Pit-a-pat… pit-a-pat… pit-a-pat.. pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat…’ More and more droplets appeared on the parquet floor. “I’m not prepared for this… Woo… woo…” A soft choking sounds echoed in the living room.
Joe stayed over at the family house for a night, at his own bedroom. Silence, he didn’t pay any attention to his every evening must-do activity, i. e. play online games in his mobile phone. He has been laying on his bed, in silence state ever since he prepared dinner and made sure his mum took the medicines prescribed by the doctor after the meal.
(This is similar to that movie, isn’t it? The one presented by Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore. What was it again?) Joe picked up his mobile phone and checked on the movie’s title. “Yes, this one. The ‘First Date’.”
‘He’s finally found the girl of his dreams until discovering she has short-term memory loss and forgets him the next day.’ He read out the movie preview in his mind. (How sad could that be? How am I going to take this?) Put away his mobile phone, turned to the other side of the bed, curled himself under the blanket.
“Dear God, mercy please. Give me back my mum. I love my mum. She is the only one I have now. Please don’t ‘take’ her away from me!” Tears ran down his pillow. “How am I going to go through this?” This man, a successful professional, who has never shed a tear for the past ten years except during his dad’s funeral two years ago, was now weeping, helplessly, again, on that same day.