Moments and Memories

Moments and Memories

As I drove home after working a double shift, the rhythm of the rain lulled me into a dream-like state. Unknowingly, I blinked myself into a hypnotic daze—then an SUV smashed into my car pushing it off the street into a guardrail. One instant I was driving. The next I was trapped in a dense fog of silent oblivion. I didn’t see, hear, or feel anything.

Sometime later, there were brief periods of trance-like delusions. One moment I felt myself strapped in a gurney with only a ceiling to look at. The next, it felt like I was a drone suspended in space. I could look down at the three-ring circus-like commotion of the ER staff scurrying from one trauma bay to another. Six hours later, I woke momentarily in the ICU surrounded by beeping machines with flickering lights and strands of tubes connected to my body. But the absence of another human, the eerie quiet inside the dim-lit room, and my total immobility frightened me. My only consolation was that I knew I was alive.

When I came-to, I couldn’t move. I felt like I was at the bottom of a well. There was a bitter metallic taste in my mouth. My head ached. It hurt to blink. The doctor’s monotone voice was somewhat fuzzy as he explained there were fragments of metal in my left eye, the humerus and radius bones in my right arm suffered a compound fracture, and one of my lungs had a partial collapse. Like the crash itself, one moment he was standing there, the next he was a memory.

The one thing I knew for certain was my entire body had been beaten like a pinata at a birthday party. I was marked with purple and blue bruises, and I had strained ligaments, and my muscles were sore. But I also knew that mercifully, I was one of the lucky crash victims—in unbearable pain but breathing, albeit with assistance.

When I wasn’t asleep, I was in a stupor wishing I could sleep. In truth, I was just three levels above living in a prison cell. The hours slowly became a day, and then two more passed. Between lab tests, therapy sessions, and long talks with well-meaning medical professionals, I still didn’t know when I might be released from this medical misery.

***

“How are you feeling today, Miss Shelly?” My favorite nurse, Ramona, breezed into the room and with her arrival, the day started to improve. She became my breath of fresh air. Competent, cheerful, and always composed, Ramona took a special interest in me. She understood the combination of constant pain and self-pity that I carried. Or maybe it was because I was a nurse like her. Whatever it was, she was the best medicine for my recouperation.

“Good morning, Ramona. I had a dream last night,” I answered. “I dreamt that I wasn’t here. It was glorious. I no longer had to wear this patch over my eye. It makes me look like a pirate.”

Ramona giggled, but stayed busy making entries on my chart, updating the patient note board, and refilling my water pitcher. She turned to face me and asked, “Where were you?”

“At my father’s winery in the Napa Valley. I was helping with the harvest. Have you ever worked in the fields?”

“No. I grew up in Mexico City where my parents owned a small clothing store. But I had relatives who worked on farms. Was it hard work?”

“When you’re young, everything is fun.” Shelly pushed back into her pillow and closed her eyes. A smile crossed her face as fond memories returned.

“Okay, Miss Shelly. I’ll come back later to see how you’re doing.” Ramona patted the end of the bed a few times as she walked into the hall.

Shelly could overhear smatterings of conversation from the nursing staff as they dealt with their patients. Carts and wheelchairs were being pushed, adults and small children made their way down the hall to visit relatives, and an occasional announcement could be heard from the intercom system.

She shut out the distractions and focused on fond memories of her childhood. What was my favorite year? There are so many to choose from. Except for the car crash, I’ve been fortunate.

When she attempted to turn onto her side, she was instantly rewarded with a sharp pain in her cast-wrapped arm. At least I no longer must rely on oxygen to breathe. Sixteen. I think sixteen was the best year—at least until I went to college.

Once she decided on the year, a calm came over her. She could almost feel her blood pressure drop a few points. Then she remembered him: Josh Talbot. Tall, handsome, athletic. He was every girl’s dream. Just being with him made her heart beat faster. She remembered his blondish wavy hair, the way it curled over his ears, his even white teeth, and the dimples when he smiled. Shelly could feel her face blushing.

Memories trickled in as her surroundings faded into nothingness. They had met in English class and clicked immediately. After two weeks, they walked to class together, studied together, and quickly became an item as the kids used to say. After a month, they dated, dined, and danced their way into an inseparable partnership. Even their families knew they had a budding romance.

Images of sharing time with Josh began to appear in her mind. Soon, it was like watching a newsreel at a movie theater. Except the images flashed so quickly it was impossible to stop the reel and focus on just one. She pressed her lips together tightly in frustration.

At that very moment, a single image of a clear blue lake appeared. Surrounded by pine trees, small cabins tucked into the thick pine-scented green forest came into focus. There were tents, and boat docks. She could almost hear the laughing and feel the warm sun on her shoulders. It was the start of summer vacation. And it was magical.

Both of our families had rented cabins that summer. My younger brother and Josh’s much older sister piled into cars with our parents acting as benevolent chaperons. Josh’s dad had a small boat, and both of our moms had meals planned. For two weeks, everything was glorious.

Long, lazy days were filled with swimming, water skiing, and stretching out to tan on beach towels by the lake. We used suntan lotion like it came from the fountain of youth; we listened to popular music and spent hours talking about the silliest things—none of which mattered. We were totally drunk on our innocence. It was if time had stopped altogether. When darkness fell, we would sit around campfires, sing songs, tell jokes, and listen to crickets’ chirping. Whenever an opportunity presented itself, we’d hold hands and go on long, aimless walks before sneaking off to hide among the trees and kiss like the movie stars we so admired.

Shelly reached up to reposition her eye patch and discovered there were warm tears on her cheek. Just the thought of Josh used to cause a steady stream of happy tears during their time together. When and why did we break up? I can’t recall.

Shelly wrinkled her brow and pushed out her lower lip in bewilderment. I should remember that. We were together for almost a year, I think.

Gingerly, she turned her body to be more comfortable. She began to nibble on the inside of her lip, trying desperately to remember what happened between them so many years ago.

“Hello, Miss Shelly. Sorry to disturb you. It’s time for your medicine.” Ramona offered Shelly a small paper cup with two pills and a glass of water. “I hope you were still dreaming that you were at your father’s winery and having fun.”

Shelly took the pills and thanked Ramona. “No, I’ve moved on. I’m at a lake now.”

Ramona’s eyes opened wide. “I don’t like lakes. I had a cousin who almost drowned in a lake.” She picked up the small tray, walked to the door, and stopped. She turned to face Shelly and said, “I hope I didn’t ruin your dream.”

Shelly shook her head. “No. Not at all. Thank you.”

After a minute, she found herself struggling to remember anything. She wondered if the medicines or the pain from her injuries were causing confusion. She took a deep breath hoping to settle her nerves. What’s wrong with me? Maybe I should use the call button and summon a nurse.

Then her memory came back with a jolt. She remembered what happened to Josh at the lake as their vacation came to an end. Her family had decided to go shopping, and while in town, Josh injured himself diving and had to be taken by ambulance to a nearby hospital. His injuries were so serious he was transferred to another hospital. They didn’t see each other again until school resumed—but he was a different Josh. He looked the same, but he didn’t smile or laugh as much. By the time Christmas arrived, his parents had decided to move away. That’s when I lost Josh forever. I wonder what he looks like now. Where he lives. Whether he remembers me.

Shelly’s lower lip trembled as her eyes glazed over. Afraid that she’d burst into a scream, she raised her left hand to cover her mouth

I cried for a month. I missed Josh so much. Thank God for my mom. She sat with me—for hours at a time. She talked to me about love and loss and how important it was for me to always treasure the time I had with Josh. The dances, the dates. She told me that we helped one another to understand life and why it was so important to keep those memories. She told me there would come a day that I’d understand what she meant about cherished friends, first loves, and summer romances.

Shelly felt the tears again. But she also felt the smile on her face, and most importantly, the happiness that filled her heart—just like her mother said she would. She inhaled deeply as she raised her chin ever so slightly.

Thank you, mom—and thank you Josh, my long-ago summer love.