No. 231 – The Memory Remains

Performer: Metallica

Songwriters: James Hetfield, Lars Ulrich

Original Release: Reload

Year: 1997

Definitive Version: S&M, 1999

After Laurie saw herself on TV during the pilot episode of Leverage in December 2008, it wasn’t as though a light flipped on and she suddenly was her old self again. I remember a particularly desultory evening during Janet’s cookie party the next weekend, but Laurie had a fairly consistent and steady improvement.

We went to Washington, D.C., to visit John and his family for Christmas. It ended up being, as Laurie said later, about the first time that she ever had a decent time with her somewhat-problematic sister-in-law.

At my urging, we went into the city for a day and did the Smithsonian Museum of American History and hiked the mall down to the Lincoln Memorial, making sure to stop at the Vietnam Wall and the new World War II memorial. I hadn’t heard about a World War II memorial and wondered aloud why it was needed, because it seemed redundant. “I kind of thought the fact that Washington is still standing was the memorial for the WWII vets.”

We went up to the Washington Cathedral to see Meemaw’s cross and candlesticks and then over to Arlington National Cemetery to pay tribute to Laurie’s father, who’s buried there. Laurie was a bit down but generally doing OK. It was a good visit.

Laurie was even better for her birthday the next month when I took her to Carlos in Highwood. For some reason, I had been sent a 2008 Zagat restaurant guide at work, so I decided to go through the guide and pick the restaurant that had the highest score for food. That was the now-closed Carlos, which neither Laurie and I had heard of.

It was a frosty January night when we made the long drive, but the restaurant was warm and cozy. It was even better when they directed us to the best table in the very small restaurant—a wall banquette that was almost like being in our own room. The food was phenomenal, and the bill was far lower than the previous year’s record-setter in the Signature Room on the 95th Floor of the Hancock Center.

Then came the previously mentioned Korean karaoke adventure (good ol’ No. 340). After my glorious rendition of She Blinded Me With Science, I had to do another song.

My choice was this “Metallica Lite” song, and I did the S&M version of The Memory Remains, where I turned the mic to the audience to bellow, “the memory remains.” It was fun, but it wasn’t as well-received as my Thomas Dolby—and rightfully so.

The next week we went to Pete Miller’s in Evanston for Valentine’s Day prime rib and jazz. We had the primo seat again—the one closest to the stage that’s up above the floor a few steps. We stayed for four hours and had a great time.

By this time, it was clear that the deep depression of the previous fall was over. Laurie’s new psychiatrist had figured out the right mix of pharmaceuticals, and Laurie was acting and feeling better than she had in almost a year, but it wasn’t until the next week when the final healing event took place.

Up to the time when Laurie went into the hospital the previous spring, we kept mostly different sleep schedules. Because I had to be up by 6 to make the commute to work in Deerfield, I always went to bed before Laurie did—sometimes hours before she did. After Laurie got out of the hospital, we ALWAYS went to bed together, because Laurie didn’t know what else to do with herself.

As her depression lifted, Laurie grew more comfortable being by herself and found things that once again occupied her mind. We headed to bed as usual when Laurie announced, almost apologetically after tucking me in, that she wanted to get back up. She wasn’t ready for bed after all; she wanted to read for a while.

I knew then that our long, incredible journey over most of the past year had come to an end, and like other markers along the way, it was a bittersweet moment. I had come to enjoy having Laurie in bed with me. I felt as though despite whatever else that was going on, as long as I had her in my arms, everything would be OK. But now … Laurie wasn’t coming to bed with me any more. She was all better now; she was back to normal.

Yay …