Forever Today (Deborah Wearing, 2005)

In my quest to get through some of the books gathering dust on our shelves I plucked something a bit different off last weekend, a memoir. I’ve read a few biographies (Bill Clinton, Churchill, Stalin, Walt Disney, Dolly Parton – spot the connection?!) but never a memoir like this one, Forever Today, written by Deborah Weaving. I don’t even know what possessed me to purchase this, I was possibly adding to my basket on the Book People in order to get free post and packing.

I devoured the book in less than a week (I’m getting through a few like that lately) as it was a truly fascinating account. Deborah Weaving writes about her husband Clive, formerly a respected conductor and musician, who was struck down with an illness in 1985 that wiped out the part of his brain that holds and forms memories. While he still has procedural memory and thus can dress himself, make a cup of tea and even play the piano, he is unable to create new memories, thus every few minutes he believes he has just ‘woken up’. When Deborah enters the room he’s seeing her for the first time, if she’s out of sight for a moment he’s forgotten she was ever there and is pleased to see her all over again.

Deborah writes of the illness, with real compassion – she was and continues to be deeply in love with Clive, and he remembers that he loves her, constantly writing in his diary that he wants her to arrive ‘at the speed of light’. Rather than being maudlin and downbeat, Forever Today is a touching, heartfelt account of the love shared between two people, and the barrier that Clive’s illness throws in their way. I was fascinated with the description of his condition, but Weaving’s writing never makes her husband feel like a scientific study subject.

From the harrowing early days of the illness, through the endless loop of repetition (Clive always asking the same questions, unable to remember answers) to Deborah’s decision to divorce Clive and look for love elsewhere in USA and Greece, the book charts Deborah’s attempts to deal with the disease, her fight to obtain proper support for amnesiacs, and her sense of utter loss and semi-grief when she tries to move on with her life. She is unable to stop loving Clive though, and happily by the end of the book, Clive is showing massive improvements in his ability to absorb information and they renew their marriage vows. Deborah finds solace in religion to assist her in dealing with Clive, and there the memoir ends.

I was pleased to discover that Clive is still living, in his 70s, according to Wikipedia. His story is endless interesting and touching, and Deborah’s experiences offer much food for thought. This may have been a bit of a random purchase, nevertheless it has been a rewarding one.