I must remember to forget
His name was Peter. I really wanted to marry him. We had been together for twelve years and had been
engaged for three. He was all I ever wanted. I believed that when we got married all would be well finally
and I would never be alone again.
He proposed in the cinema. I thought it was the most beautiful setting for a proposal. He told the cinema
staff that he was going to propose to his girlfriend. On the way in, while I was getting popcorn, he asked the
cinema staff not to turn down the lights in the theatre until he had given them the thumbs up.
Before the film started he turned to me as we sat facing the screen. He asked me to marry him in a raised
voice. The cinema went quiet. Everyone in the packed cinema theatre could hear the proposal. He put his
finger to my lips so that his proposal could sink in. Everyone was listening for her answer. He removed his
hand and I cried ‘yes!’ and started to cry. The whole theatre of people started clapping and whooping. He
gave the staff the thumbs up to lower the lights. My memory of that evening is of saying yes and then the
lights going out simultaneously.
We began to watch ‘Gone with the Wind’ one of my favourite films. I was swept up with the warming
satisfying feeling that he had proposed and all was now going to be well. I thought I knew what I was
doing.I thought I knew what the future held and I could start planning my wedding and my life. I couldnt
wait to start making my lists. If I could capture it all down on paper I would be able to order it all in my
head and control as much of my life as I possibly could. If I could see it all laid out in front of me, I could
control all that I could see. I could plan it all out and tick each item lovingly off my list.
I loved to make lists. I made lists of things I needed to remember. I also made lists of unconnected things
like alerts, reminders, to-dos, best practices, theories, points to note. I just wrote it all down, I wrote
everything down. If I didnt it would all be rolling around in my head like a washing machine on spin cyle
for eternity. Of course, like everyone, I made shopping lists too. I caught sight of such a list I had made last
month in a notebook.
Pill box hat
If this list had fallen out of my pocket and someone picked it up and read it they might wonder what kind of
day I was planning on having. It certainly made me wonder and then I remembered that day. It was the day
I fainted when I was in with my GP. I had just left the hairdressers and I was dressed to go to a wedding.
Hence the pill box hat from my list. We were going to the wedding of a friend of Peter’s, my fiance. I was
overdressed for my visit to the doctor but its so hard to get an appointment I had to keep it.
I was in to get my routine bloods done and suddenly I fainted. I remember just letting go to the darkening
room and thinking afterwards that going unconsious was like it must be to die. It happened so fast. No
biggie. If it happened like that I would not fear it. I had made my list and look at the positives that had
come out of it. Right before the room darkened I thought how thankful I was that I had made my list of
possessions and who I would bequeath each item to if I ever died suddenly. Squeezing in my doctors visit
got me an insight into how I am in a crisis situation. It wasnt so bad. It was nice to think that I had a handle
on the whole death thing. Another item to tick off my list.
All that was needed was a mars bar but my doctor decided to call an ambulance and I stayed in A&E for 9
hours waiting beside my pink pill box hat. The hat was now attached in a most precarious way to my head
by some valiant hair grips who just were not letting go. I must have looked like I got caught in the Wizard
of Oz swirling tornado and in the turmoil this pink object had found a temporary resting place on the side of
my head now that the storm had subsided. It had decided it was going to slide down the