Memory Serves

“Memory Serves”

E.J. Wagner

One cold gray March day back in the 80’s, I made my usual trip to Manhattan to meet my pathologist cousin Teddy, to share lunch and discuss murder.

We were both late, having each walked past the restaurant, in spite of having met at the same spot for months.

He blames our mutual lack of directional sense on genetic inheritance -jovially reminding me that our grandparents were cousins.

(Our grandparents had died years before I was born, but Teddy, 27 years my senior, has happily shared details of their eccentricities)

“Cousins? Did matchmakers allow sort of thing?”

“Matchmakers had nothing to do with it. They arranged it themselves-a true love match. They remained a very romantic, demonstrative couple all their lives. The family would tease them. She never called him ‘Lev’ which was his name-it was always ‘Mein Lieb ’.”

Due to the age gap between us and the fact that he had spent years in France, India, China and Burma working for the OSS, I didn’t get to know Teddy until I was an adult.

When I needed information on autopsy techniques for a Museum presentation ay Stony Brook University, I phoned him. He invited me to the medical examiner’s office to observe.

I watched, fascinated, as this soft spoken, gently humorous man neatly sliced a human liver and dropped the bits into what seemed to be a take out food container.

Intrigued, I became a frequent visitor to the Office.

Over time, Teddy became my mentor.

During our lunches, he convinced me that with his help I could write a valuable book on the history of forensic science.

“And it’s important to do-“ he’d tell me “if we don’t learn from the mistakes of the past we’ll repeat them”.

So I was shaken when he leaned across the table that March day and said-

“about the book-we’ll have to find someone else to mentor you. I’ve developed some neurological issues-memory gaps- definitely getting worse. I’ll help as long as I can-here’s a reading list..

(I notice it’s an inch thick and single spaced)

He describes the sort of forensic specialist I need to work with-who sounds like a mash up of Albert Schweitzer, Sherlock Holmes, and a particularly well disposed Saint Bernard.

“I’ll give you my notes-you can serve as my memory” he finished.

Teddy had presented a perfectly succinct well organized plan.

Sure he was suffering a case of mistaken self diagnosis, I was trying to say this tactfully when he suddenly demanded ;

“Our grandparents-did you know they were cousins? First cousins? She used to call him… what did she call him? What was it? I can’t remember!!”

“She called Mein Lieb” I told him.

The End

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One Response to “Memory Serves”

  1. Sandy Kozinn Says:

    What a touching story…what a beautiful memory.

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