February 27th 2664 (Adult Nardho POV)

Remembrance

A memory from long ago has now resurfaced all of a sudden

Our younger days, full of laughter, when we were free and so reckless

Our sweet friendship, our college years, will never leave me, yes even now

Oh to be young, to be hopeful, to have some dreams and know no fear

Oh how I long to return there to feel the wind beneath my wings

Oh how I wish to turn back time to find again my naïve self

I know it is pointless, just a dream, just a yearning

I know I should move on, be grateful for my life now

Someone, someone wake me up from this endless nostalgia

Please help me get back on track to happiness

Please help me leave past behind and get some peace

Have you ever felt that pang of sadness when you realize you have taken your youth for granted? Have you ever taken love for granted until you arrive at a point where the person you love the most is not a hundred percent the way you remember them to be? I managed to talk to Moira about our relationship to each other but I still mourned the fact that we had thirty-plus years of togetherness that she couldn't seem to recall. It felt as if someone accidentally hit reset button.

I had continued going to Dr. Torres' counseling sessions and Moira seemed to be interested in how those sessions had helped me—each time I returned from the clinic, she would ask me to share how I had been feeling and what I had learned. At one point, she even suggested that she could perhaps accompany me to the appointments just to see for herself what it was like to be in therapy. I appreciated her wanting to get into my head but there were things I prefer to keep to myself. As a compromise, however, I let my wife listen to some parts of my voice recordings.

"You seem to be a glass half-empty sort of person, but given what has been happening it is a normal reaction." Moira commented after listening to a recording in which I complained to Kenta about Johan's attempt to cheer me up. "When you are trapped in a cycle of self-defeating thoughts, it is easy to let the positives go unnoticed and to amplify your dissatisfaction and sense of inadequacy. Is there anything we could do together to help you re-frame our situation?"

"That's what Dr. Torres said—I still need to see that the glass still has some water in it. The way I perceive our situation is unhealthy because I tend to magnify the negatives and minimize the positives. I'm prone to blowing things out of proportion and I'm sorry for that level of pessimism. I know that I tend to go into an all-or-nothing logic and have a distorted mindset."

"But you've been slightly happier the last few days, though, haven't you? I notice that each time you feel stressed you'd do some crossword puzzle or watch the sand in your hourglass."

"The hourglass and puzzle are momentary distractions, Moira. I think I need something more long-term. I consider asking my therapist if she could recommend some mood stabilizers—because it sucks to have my moods fluctuate all the time—but I'm worried about the potential side effects. Those drugs only treat symptoms and do not address the underlying causation of my depressed state. So, taking mood stabilizers should be a last resort rather than a default option."

"I will support whatever treatment you choose for yourself, honey. By the way, what do you think of taking a short vacation, just you and I? Maybe going somewhere new would be helpful."

A vacation? That... didn't sound too horrible. I had been cooped up in the house and getting away from the monotony of daily life might be the key to feeling normal once again.

"Where would you like to go and for how long? Would three to four days be okay?" I mentally went through my calendar and realized that I could squeeze in some time for just relaxation.

"Could you take me to the places we used to frequent when we were younger? With my memory gradually failing me and with you living in the past, this might either be a terrific idea or a terrible one, so I want to make sure the destination we choose isn't going to make either of us sad." Moira gazed into my eyes with a quizzical look.

"A trip down the memory lane?" I muttered more to myself than to my wife. "Perhaps I can take you to the small downtown outside our alma mater. You used to drag me there to get extra sweet bubble tea. Not sure if I can handle that much sweetness the way I did when we were young, though," I forced a laughter. "Or we could visit the botanical gardens. We could just take a leisurely stroll and you could talk my ear off with everything and nothing."

"Everything and nothing? What does it mean?" she tilted her head to one side. "Was I annoying and the type who would never shut up?"

"No, you weren't usually the type to ramble, but when you got excited about something you blabbered on," I grinned. "I miss hearing the excitement in the way you speak."

"Oh." Moira's voice grew quieter. "Maybe you'll hear it during our short vacation then. I expect it to be exciting. It should be, shouldn't it?"

"What if we rent a rustic cabin just several miles from the heart of Orchidsboro?" I suggested. "A cabin could be pretty charming, you know, not to mention cozy and homey. It would be quite different from the busy and crowded suburban we live in. We could pretend the outside world doesn't exist and that we're forever trapped in our own time loop."

"Isn't that what we're essentially doing, though?" she snickered. "I'm losing my memories of the last thirty or so years and you're constantly pining for bygone days. Let's just stay in a regular motel. Unless, of course, if you think a cabin would be the cheapest accommodation."

"I think a cabin would be within our means," I nodded. "By the way, I understand that you would rather spend the vacation alone with me, but perhaps it would be wiser to have someone else tag along with us, in case of medical emergency. What if we bring our nieces or nephew?"

"I wouldn't object," she smiled. "That girl who has been helping you with a book you're writing, what's her name? Isa... Isabel something? She's a trustworthy person, right?"

"Isabella Mhoirbheinn? Yeah, that's our lovely Izzy, she's the one I've worked with on my autobiography project. Do you want her to come with us? I'm sure she'd be happy to be of assistance even when this isn't directly related to her duty as my personal biographer."

"If she wouldn't mind, then let's ask her!" Moira readily agreed. "I trust whoever you trust."

---

Izzy answered in affirmative to our request of becoming an unofficial aide. She went above and beyond what I expected of her, however, and helped me research affordable cabins around Orchidsboro within driving distance from an urgent care unit. Amazingly, those cabins Izzy recommended, called the Secrest Log House, were also very close by to a public park and a manmade lake with a pier next to a patch of woods. I had planned a flexible itinerary to accommodate the fact that Moira's energy level could fluctuate during the day and I wouldn't want to tire her out, but one thing was certain: I needed to take her to see the glasshouse next to the biochemistry department of Blue Orchid University. The small lawn adjacent to it was the very same spot on which I asked for her hand in marriage, shortly after our graduation ceremony. As for our wedding itself, it happened one misty afternoon at the astronomy department's observatory deck, overlooking the mountains and the endless rows of trees surrounding them.

There was no telling if bringing Moira to the places that held historical significance to our entire courtship and eventual marriage would help her gain some of her memories back. I hated to admit that I might have unhealthily clung to the past and refused to let go, but what else could I have done when all the times I could recall being happy were behind me? Sure, our youthful years weren't always the easiest stages in our lives. Comparatively speaking, though, back then we were blissfully blind to the pain declining cognitive abilities could inflict on an otherwise stable relationship. Perchance the pain would be here to stay, but I wasn't about to let it ruin us. It could push me down to the lowest pit of hell but I was no stranger to hell—I survived it once.