A Stubborn, Persistent Illusion ...Finale

We are our memories and they, like us, are fallible. Because our recollections are unreliable, our view of reality and ourselves is imperfect as well. We strive to connect with the past only to discover that Heraclitus was right—you can't step into the same river twice.

Elaine

I was sitting in The Slye Fox pub trying to explain to Clare that my dead wife and our old life literally vanished into thin air.

Clare was remarkably patient and compassionate—I think she may have thought I was experiencing some kind of mental or emotional breakdown, and to be honest, even I wasn't sure.

But there were some unsettling aspects of the whole experience that were totally beyond my control—and I reminded her.

"You know there are somethings we can't deny—You actually saw Elaine with your own eyes and spoke to her."

"I did," she nodded, "and I peeked into the front room and saw bookshelves and the sectional couch you were describing, so it can't have been simply a hallucination of yours."

"That's true," I conceded, "but I don't get why Jake appeared as well, and why she had to occupy our old apartment. Why not just appear to me in my room? It's bizarre."

Clare was preoccupied, staring out the window trying to reason something out inside her head.

I had come to recognize all her tells and gestures and the nuances of her expressions—I think I figured out a lot about her nights when I'd lie in my bed and picture her face.

Suddenly, she interjected, "Did you ever think that maybe Elaine didn't know she was dead?"

Clare's words roared through my brain and I tried to come to grips with that possibility.

"It's possible," I said hesitantly, "but what makes you think that?"

"I was thinking about the ancient Greek mythology about the stream of Lethe or Forgetfulness—the dead have to drink of its waters to forget their earthly life and only when they do so can they be reincarnated."

I frowned,"Well, that might account for why Elaine couldn't remember me—but she wasn't exactly reincarnated, unless she came back as herself, reliving her old life, simply minus me."

A long silence fell between us as our minds were racing to explore various scenarios.

"Why do you think Elaine chose to live in our old basement apartment and apply for a job at the bank where she used to work? It almost seems like repeating the past or what her past could have been in some alternate universe."

Clare looked as perplexed as me. "You're right—it's a real conundrum and parts of it simply don't make sense."

I sighed and shook my head as if to clear away clouds clotting my perceptions.

"You know how it is—the dead often visit us in dreams and we accept them and don't question why they're there until we awaken and realize they're gone. Then reality comes flooding back with all the pain of missing them."

"I know," Clare whispered, "I've had that very experience many times. Maybe Einstein was right—it's all relative. What is real—our dreams, or our daily life? I wonder if it really matters."

"I wonder if that moment of recognition I saw in Elaine and Jake's eyes occurred when they were waking up from their dreams?"

Clare's eyes widened and she stared at me trying to process the thought.

"You know, there may be something to that," she replied, "we just don't encounter people in dreams but we move about in familiar settings, often revisiting the same places."

It was my turn to gaze off into space in wonder. As I peered through the window, I saw the street lamps had come on. It was late and we had been going over this for more than two hours.

"You know what, Clare? We should call it a night. We're both exhausted and at a loss to explain this—endlessly pursuing the mystery is just giving us a case of mental bumblebees buzzing in our brains."

She laughed. "I agree. We can only take so much at a time."

She reached across the table and patted my hand and the familiar current of passion was back—she felt it too. I could see it clearly in her eyes.

That night was a watershed in our lives.

We had reached an impasse in trying to come to terms with Elaine's returning from the dead and were able to go no further.

Nothing made sense, but it didn't matter. Clare and I renewed our relationship. There was nothing left to do but go on with our lives.

At least, I finally have someone to talk to who seems to understand me and strangely, things in my life are slowly turning around.

It seems the pall that hung over me is lifting and I’m getting out more and doing things with Clare.

She is what I was missing in my life. And who knows, maybe that was Elaine's purpose all along—to come back and assure me she was holding no grievance.

Regardless, I now see life as full of wonder and mystery and have found with Clare the romance of new beginnings.

© 2019, John J Geddes. All rights reserved

Photo