Babs

A dame of stage and screen dies, having lived with dementia, releasing an outpouring of memories about her. And memories matter, whether or not we live with dementia, because they carry our identity. And memory exists beyond and between us.

Each of us experiences what can be described as three Selfs. Self 1 is our conscious awareness that we exist in the present moment. This has developed before our first birthday, and we don’t ever lose it, even if we don’t know where we are or who we are, even if Self 1 is afraid and disoriented.

Self 2 is what we think and feel about ourselves. This is, of course, constructed: woven from things that happened, and the meaning we confer upon those events, among other things. Self 2 is impacted upon by trauma. You don’t have to have ‘memory loss’ to know that we are unreliable curators of our memory, our selective recollections, discardings, erasures, and reconstructions.

Self 3 is our social self, or selves, and exists only in relation to other people. You can be a great actress, but you can’t be a much-loved actress without an audience. You can’t be a teacher without students who experience your insight. You can’t be a friend without friends. I am not self-made, but one contributor among many, each with their own part to play, as my parents, wife, children, long-lost friends.

It is important to hold someone who lives with dementia—and their closest loved and loving ones, who also live with their dementia—in the supportive web of memory. But, in fact, it is important for each and every one of us. And this has only been highlighted in this strange year of social isolation, where we are not making new memories, at least not in the old, familiar ways.

Eventually a time will come when, however loved or reviled I may be, there will be no one in this universe who can remember me, recall even my name, except God. And because of God, I shall endure; and endure in the hope of the resurrection. But, for now, I am known, I am created and sustained as a child of that God among God's children. For now, we have each other.

Let’s not wait until we die to cherish one another.