The Last Times

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Abstract

an ill-advised idea at the time. I was about 6 months pregnant with my first son and was tired of sitting on the sidelines for so many months. My husband and I took our golden retriever to a local lake.I didn’t get very far before I had a skate caught in a crack in the ice, causing me to free fall face first with a major impact on my large belly. I was unhurt but terrified. What had I done to this baby I had waited 11 years to conceive? We were both fine, but I was shaken up. Babies are very well protected before they are born.I tried to remember my last ski trip. I could only recall a series of trips to Vermont in 1996 before I became pregnant with the son I thought I killed when I went ice skating while pregnant. A group of memories lumped in with some of the skiing in Lake Tahoe and Colorado.I recalled the day before I had the stroke, February 13, 1999, well. My husband and I dropped the baby off at my mother-in-law’s and I drove (probably with both hands) to a nearby town’s Main Street to look for furniture for the new baby’s room. I parked on a very steep incline and walked around all day going to antique shops. So I have a clear memory of walking normally the day before I had the stroke.</p

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When I see the items I had knit before I lost the use of my left hand, I can remember knitting them. There is a beautiful throw blanket in my living room I made using three strands of different yarn. I have a few hats and sweaters I made, too.Swimming using both arms and legs is something I can remember as I struggle to swim now using a flotation device. I imagine my left arm doing the crawl stroke as I paddle along using just my right arm.I have many memories of going on long hikes and walking on the beach, but I don’t remember the last time for either.I talked about all of those last times with my son, but what I didn’t share with him is that making love while having full control of my body has become a very dim memory. I certainly don’t remember the last time that happened.Suffering any kind of loss that changes your life will divide your life into two distinct periods: before and after the storm.Because there is no way to know you might be doing something you take for granted for the last time, you may not remember many “last times.” There is a kind of muddy divide of my life split into “before” and “after” the stroke.</article></body>

The memories become muddy after a life-altering event

My son asked me if I remember the last time I rode a bike. He had bought a new steering wheel for his car and I was pretending to steer it using 2 hands. I caught myself remembering I haven’t used 2 hands to steer a car in 22 years. My left hand is too unreliable to use for driving a car.

I was disabled by a severe stroke at age 35, while I was 6 months pregnant with the son who bought the steering wheel. He never knew me as an able-bodied person.

I thought hard about when I had last ridden a bike. I had memories of renting a bike on Nantucket Island with my brother when I attended a wedding with him there. Another time we rented bikes and rode around Yosemite National Park when I was married. But I can’t say I remember the last time. It got me thinking about all the “last times” I did so many things as an able-bodied person.

I clearly remember the last time I went ice skating. It was an ill-advised idea at the time. I was about 6 months pregnant with my first son and was tired of sitting on the sidelines for so many months. My husband and I took our golden retriever to a local lake.

I didn’t get very far before I had a skate caught in a crack in the ice, causing me to free fall face first with a major impact on my large belly. I was unhurt but terrified. What had I done to this baby I had waited 11 years to conceive? We were both fine, but I was shaken up. Babies are very well protected before they are born.

I tried to remember my last ski trip. I could only recall a series of trips to Vermont in 1996 before I became pregnant with the son I thought I killed when I went ice skating while pregnant. A group of memories lumped in with some of the skiing in Lake Tahoe and Colorado.

I recalled the day before I had the stroke, February 13, 1999, well. My husband and I dropped the baby off at my mother-in-law’s and I drove (probably with both hands) to a nearby town’s Main Street to look for furniture for the new baby’s room. I parked on a very steep incline and walked around all day going to antique shops. So I have a clear memory of walking normally the day before I had the stroke.

When I see the items I had knit before I lost the use of my left hand, I can remember knitting them. There is a beautiful throw blanket in my living room I made using three strands of different yarn. I have a few hats and sweaters I made, too.

Swimming using both arms and legs is something I can remember as I struggle to swim now using a flotation device. I imagine my left arm doing the crawl stroke as I paddle along using just my right arm.

I have many memories of going on long hikes and walking on the beach, but I don’t remember the last time for either.

I talked about all of those last times with my son, but what I didn’t share with him is that making love while having full control of my body has become a very dim memory. I certainly don’t remember the last time that happened.

Suffering any kind of loss that changes your life will divide your life into two distinct periods: before and after the storm.

Because there is no way to know you might be doing something you take for granted for the last time, you may not remember many “last times.” There is a kind of muddy divide of my life split into “before” and “after” the stroke.