Memories Lost

Several months ago I came across an old  acquaintance, someone from my childhood neighborhood, who grew and studied in the same schools I did. The last time I spoke to him was during the summer of 2008, during a reunion our group of friends had, after 31 years of being apart. We spoke briefly, as he was always somewhat shy, but we managed to catch up with gone times.

Several months ago I visited the bakery he owns and he was there, at least so I thought. I greeted him, and he looked at me puzzled. Do you remember me? I am Edil, I use to live in Tallaboa. He still looked at me stone-faced. I don't know who you are, he said. The establishment was full of people, I felt embarrassed, as the employees and customers looked on. 

I left the store confused, knowing that the  person I was speaking to was the same friend I grew up with, the same one I spoke to 4 years before, at least so I thought.

That same day I called my friend Socorro, who also knew him, and had also seen him for the last time during the reunion four years before. I shared with her what had happened, but she had no answers. She knew that he owned the bakery, and kind of confirmed that he was the person I was talking to, based on my description of him. We were both puzzled now, without a clear understanding of what had happened. 

This morning I went to the bakery again, since it is the closest one to my mother in law's place where we are staying. There he was, talking spiritedly and cheerfully with his employees. After I payed for my order, I hesitantly said, excuse me are you Samuel? Yes I am, he said. Samuel Ramirez? I said in an effort to confirm who he was beyond any doubt. He answered, yes, that is me, while again looking at me as if I was a stranger. Once again confused, I said, I'm Edil, pausing for a few second, then adding Rentas, after seeing no reaction from him. I'm from Tallaboa, don't you remember me? No he said once again. I lived right by the  community center, of the Rentas', the nickname my family was known by, eliciting no reaction from him. 

As he looked at my puzzled face, he said to me, I'm sorry, I don't remember many things since I suffered a stroke 3 years ago, I lost all my memories, and I had to start from scratch once again. I'm sorry, I said, feeling sad about his situation, after all Samuel was only 47 when he suffered the stroke. This guy is from Tallaboa too, he said as he introduced me to his baker, who happened to be the son of a family my parents used to visit. He looked at me and said I know you, you are Edil, the son of Quique and Monín, the nicknames my parents were known by. You used to always be riding your bicycle, and you were very skinny, he added, noticing my now big frame. Yes that is me, and I remember you too, and your family. It's nice to see you, I said.

After speaking for a few minutes and attempting to catch lost times, I departed  the bakery with sorrow in my heart for Samuel, but happy that I had found an answer to my inquest. I was happy to have reconnected with two old friends, one with old memories, and the other with all memories lost.