"Do you remember?"
I look at my husband. We're sitting in the living room watching our favorite TV show.
"Do you remember where we met for the first time?"
I can detect that look in his eyes. The one that only recently appeared. It masks, I know from my own experience, a certain sense of loss. Over the years, my memory transformed from an ally to an adversary. It seems as if a safe storage place suddenly sprang holes where information, at times crucial, is leaking out.
It started with names; of people and places. A name that a minute before was there is gone. It is almost a physical sensation; a piece of information slipping away quickly. Too fast for me to send a metaphorical hand to retrieve it. It is five minutes, or an hour, perhaps a day, and here it is back as if it was never gone.
Only names, I think; tiny fragments of information, there are perhaps too many of them occupying my mind like an overloaded computer. The comparison to my computer brightens my mood. I know how my personal computer sometimes fails to retrieve the information I saved. Perhaps all I need to do is to defrag my mind like I do to my computer's hard disk. After all, a defragmented hard disk is a happy hard disk, say the computer geeks. Delete what is not needed, lose the second or third copy of the same file, and the movement of knowledge will become smoother.
Reorganizing files on a hard disk ensures that each file's parts are stored in contiguous sectors on the disk, improving computer performance and maximizing disk space. I wonder if this reorganization can work for the brain as well.
"We met in your office in the town of Arad in September of 1975." My husband's voice startles me from my deep thoughts.
"You really thought that I could forget such important information," I can detect the teasing tone in his voice.
I inhale a deep breath of relief. The moment of panic is gone for now. With the retrieved information, the whole 'file' opens up. Forty-six years slide down the memory chute to reveal one special unforgettable moment. A moment when the both of us, complete strangers, met and a lasting connection was formed. Computer defragmentation and rearranging particles of knowledge, I laugh to myself. They have nothing on the human brain. Still, a small voice in my head wonders, will it happen again?
